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Third edition
CONTENTS AND PREFACES
The first part of this document comprises a cumulative analytical table of contents for
the whole of the third edition of The Golden Bough. This material is extracted almost
verbatim from the individual volumes, the only significant change being that volume
numbers have been added to the page references for chapters, and that for the “note”
at the end of Part VI1 a synopsis, absent in the table of contents, was prepared based
on the marginal sidebars printed with the text. Volumes numbers are given in Roman
numerals, thus:
1
This “note” was part of the main text in the second edition, where it was the last thing
before the general conclusion of the third section, “Killing the God” (which became parts III-
VI in the third edition). — T.S.
1
PART I: THE MAGIC ART AND THE EVOLUTION OF KINGS
CHAPTER I.—THE KING OF THE WOOD . . . . . I, 1-43
§ 1. Diana and Virbius, pp 1-24.—The lake and sanctuary of Diana at Nemi, 1-6; the character
of Diana at Nemi, 6-8; rule of succession to the priesthood, 8-10; legends of its origin,
10 sq.; features of the worship of Diana at Nemi, 12-14; Diana’s festival on the 13th of
August, 14-17; the companions of Diana, Egeria, 17-19; Virbius, 19-21; unhistorical
character of the traditions, 21-23; antiquity of the grove, 23 sq.
§ 2. Artemis and Hippolytus, pp. 24-40.—Hippolytus at Troezen, 24-28; hair-offerings to
Hippolytus and others, 28-32; graves of Apollo and Artemis at Delos, 33-35; Artemis a
goddess of the wild life of nature, 35-38; Hippolytus the consort of Artemis, 38-40.
§ 3. Recaptiulation, pp. 40-43.—Virbius the consort of Diana, 40 sq.; the leafy bust at Nemi,
41-43.
2
176-182; contagious magic of navel-string and afterbirth or placenta, 182-200;
afterbirth or navel-string a seat of the external soul, 200 sq.; contagious magic of
wounds and spilt blood, 201-205; contagious magic of garments, 205-207; contagious
magic of footprints and other bodily impressions, 207-214.
§ 4. The Magician’s Progress, pp. 214-219.—Elevation of public magicians to the position of
chiefs and kings, 214-216; rise of monarchy essential to the emergence of mankind
from savagery, 216-219.
3
§ 4. The Magical Control of the Wind, pp. 319-331.—Various charms for making the wind
blow or be still, 319-323; winds raised by wizards and witches, 323-327; fighting the
spirit of the wind, 327-331.
4
sq.; ceremonies at fellings trees, 34-39; propitiating tree-spirits in house-timber, 39 sq.;
sacred trees the abode of spirits, 40-43; sacred groves, 43-45.
§ 2. Beneficient Powers of Tree-spirits, pp. 45-58.—Tree-spirit develops into anthropomorphic
deity of the woods, 45; tree-spirits give rain and sunshine, 46 sq.; tree-spirits make
crops to grow, 47; the Harvest May and kindred customs, 47-49; tree-spirits make
herds and women fruitful, 50-52; green boughs protect against witchcraft, 52-55;
influence of tree-spirits on cattle among the Wends, Esthonians and Circassians, 55
sq.; tree-spirits grant offspring or easy delivery to women, 56-58.
5
§ 2. The Marriage of the Gods, pp. 129-155.—Marriages of the gods in Babylonia and
Assyria, 129 sq.; marriage of the god Ammon to the Queen of Egypt, 130-135; Apollo
and his prophetess at Patara, 135; Artemis and the Essenes at Ephesus, 135 sq.;
marriage of Dionysus and the Queen at Athens, 136-138; marriage of Zeus and
Demeter at Eleusis, 138-140; marriage of Zeus and Hera at Platæa, 140-143; marriage
of Zeus and Hera in other parts of Greece, 143; the god Frey and his human wife in
Sweden, 143 sq.; similar rites in ancient Gaul, 144 sq.; marriages of gods to images or
living women among uncivilised peoples, 145 sqq.; custom of the Wotyaks, 145 sq.;
custom of the Peruvian Indians, 156; marriage of a woman to the Sun among the
Blackfoot Indians, 146 sq.; marriage of girls to fishing-nets among the Hurons and
Algonquins, 147 sq.; marriage of the Sun-god and Earth-goddess among the Oraons,
148 sq.; marriage of women to gods in India and Africa, 149 sq.; marriage of women
to water-gods and crocodiles, 150-152; virgin sacrificed as a bride to the jinnee of the
sea in the Maldive Islands, 153-155
§ 3. Sacrifices to Water-spirits, pp. 155-170.—Stories of the Perseus and Andromeda type, 155
sq.; water-spirits conceived as serpents or dragons, 156 sq.; sacrifices of human beings
to water-spirits, 157-159; water-spirits as dispensers of fertility, 159; water-spirits
bestow offspring on women, 159-161; love of river-spirits for women in Greek
mythology, 161 sq.; the Slaying of the Dragon and Furth in Bavaria, 163 sq.; St.
Romain and the Dragon at Rouen, 164-170.
6
CHAPTER XV.—THE FIRE-DRILL . . . . . II, 207-226
Vestal fire at Rome rekindled by the fire-drill, 207; use of the fire-drill by savages, 207 sqq.;
the fire-sticks regarded by savages as male and female, 208-211; fire-customs of the
Herero, 211 sqq.; sacred fire among the Herero maintained in the chief’s hut by his
unmarried daughter, 213-215; the Herero chief as priest of the hearth, 215-217; sacred
Herero fire rekindled by fire-sticks, which are regarded as male and female, and are
made from the sacred ancestral tree, 217-221; the sacred Herero hearth a special seat of
the ancestral spirits, 221 sq.; sacred fire-sticks of the Herero represent deceased
ancestors, 222-224; sacred fire-boards as family deities among the Koryaks and
Chuckchees, 255 sq.
7
succession to the kingship in Africa and Assam, 292-295; similar combination perhaps
in force at Rome, 295 sq.; personal qualities required in kings and chiefs, 296-299;
succession to the throne determined by a race, 299-301; custom of racing for a bride,
301-305; contests for a bride other than a race, 305-308; the Flight of the King
(Regifugium) at Rome perhaps a relic of a contest for the kingship and the hand of a
princess, 308-310; confirmation of this theory from the practice of killing a human
representative of Saturn at the Saturnalia, 310-312; violent ends of Roman kings, 313;
death of Romulus on the Nonæ Caprotinæ (7th July), an old licentious festival like the
Saturnalia for the fertilization of the fig, 313-319; violent deaths of other Roman kings,
320 sq.; succession to Latin kingship perhaps decided by single combat, 321; African
parallels, 321 sq.; Greek and Italian kings may have personated Cronus and Saturn
before they personated Zeus and Jupiter, 322 sq.
8
CHAPTER XXI.—DIANUS AND DIANA . . . . II, 376-387
Recapitulation: rise of sacred kings endowed with magical or divine powers, 376-378; the
King of the Wood at Nemi seems to have personified Jupiter the god of the oak and to
have mated with Diana the goddess of the oak, 378-380; Dianus (Janus) and Diana
originally dialectically different forms of Jupiter and Juno, 380-383; Janus (Dianus)
not originally a god of doors, 383 sq.; double-headed figure of Janus (Dianus) derived
from a custom of placing him as sentinel at doorways, 384; parallel custom among the
negroes of Surinam, 384 sq.; originally the King of the the Wood at Nemi represented
Dianus (Janus), a duplicate form of Jupiter, the god of the oak, the thunder, and the
sky, 385-387.
9
§ 3. The Soul as a Shadow and a Reflection, pp. 77-100.—A man’s soul conceived as his
shadow, so that he can be injured through it, 77-81; animals also injured through their
shadows, 81 sq.; dangers of being overshadowed by certain persons, 82 sq.; the
savage’s dread of his mother-in-law, 83-86; health and strength supposed to vary with
the length of the shadow, 86-88; fear of the resemblance of a child to its parents, 88
sq.; shadows of people built into foundations to strengthen them, 89 sq.; foundation
sacrifices, 90 sq.; deification of a measuring-tape, 91 sq.; the soul supposed to be in
the reflection, 92-94; reason for covering up mirrors in sickness or after a death, 94-96;
the soul supposed to be in the portrait, especially in photographs, 96-100.
10
§ 3. Woman tabooed at Menstruation and Childbirth, pp. 145-157.—Taboos imposed on
women at menstruation, 145-147; taboos imposed on women in childbed, 147-150;
dangers appreheneded from women in childbed, 150-155; similar taboos imposed on
young men at initiation, 156 sq.
§ 4. Warriors tabooed, pp 157-165.—Taboos laid on warriors when they go forth to fight, 157-
160; ceremonies observed by North American Indians before they went on the war-
path, 160-162; rules observed by Indians on a war expedition, 162 sq.; the rule of
continence observed by savage warriors may be based on a fear of infecting
themselves sympathetically with feminine weakness.
§ 5. Manslayers tabooed, pp. 165-190.—Taboos lain on warriors who have slain foes, 165;
seclusion of manslayers in the East Indies and New Guinea, 165-169; the manslayer
unclean, 169; the ghosts of the slain driven away, 169-171; precautions taken by
executioners against the ghosts of their victims, 171 sq.; seclusion and purification of
manslayers in African tribes, 172-177; precautions taken by Australian manslayers
against the ghosts of their victimes, 177 sq.; seclusion of manslayers in Polynesia, 178
sq.; seclusion and purification of manslayers among the Tupi Indians of Brazil, 179-
181; seclusion and purification of manslayers among the North American Indians, 181-
186; the purification of murderers probably intended to avert the ghosts of their
victims, 186-188; ancient Greek dread of the ghosts of the slain, 188; taboos imposed
on men who have partaken of human flesh, 188-190.
§ 6. Hunters and Fishers tabooed, pp. 190-223.—Taboos observed by hunters and fishers
probably dictated by a fear of the spirits of the animals or fish, 190 sq.; taboos
observed as a preparation for whaling, fishing, and hunting, 191-193; taboos observed
at the hatching and pairing of silkworms, 193 sq.; taboos observed by fishermen in
Uganda, 194-196; taboos observed by hunters in Nias, 196; continence observed by
fishers and hunters apparently based on a fear of offending the fish and animals, 196
sq.; chastity observed by American Indians before hunting, 197 sq.; taboos observed
by Hidatsa Indians at catching eagles, 198-200; miscellaneous examples of chastity
observed from superstitious motives 200-204; the taboos observed by hunters and
fishers are often continued and increased in stringency after the animals and fish have
been killed, 204 sq.; taboos observed by the Esquimaux after killing sea beasts, 205-
209; native explanation of these taboos, 209-213; passage of animism into religion
among the Esquimaux, 213 sq.; the confession of sins originally practised as a kind of
physical purgation, 214-218; possible survivals of savage taboos among civilised
peoples, 218 sq,; purificatory ceremonies observed by hunters after slaying dangerous
animals, such as panthers, lions, bears, and serpents, 219-223; such purificatory
ceremonies based on a fear of the souls of the animals, 223.
11
§ 3. Sharp Weapons tabooed, pp. 237-239.—Use of sharp weapons forbidden lest they wound
spirits, 237 sq.; knives not used after deaths or funerals, 238; use of sharp weapons
forbidden at pregnancy and childbirth, 238 sq.
§ 4. Blood tabooed, pp 239-251.—Raw meat tabooed because the life or spirit is in the blood,
239-241; royal blood not to be spilt on the ground, 241-243; reluctance to shed any
human blood on the ground, 243-247; unwillingness to shed the blood of animals, 247;
sacredness of whatever is touched by a Maori chief’s blood, 247 sq.; the juice of the
grape regarded as the blood of the vine, 248; wine treated as blood and intoxication as
inspiration, 248-250; man’s dread of the blood of women, 250 sq.
§ 5. The Head tabooed, pp. 252-257.—The head sacred on account of the residence of a spirit,
252 sq,; objection to have any one overhead, 253 sq.; sanctity of the head, especially of
a chief’s head, in Polynesia and elsewhere, 254-257.
§ 6. Hair tabooed, pp. 258-264.—Hair of kings, priests, and other tabooed persons kept
unshorn, 258-260; hair kept unshorn on various occasions, such as a wife’s pregnancy,
a journey, and war, 261; hair unshorn during a vow, 261 sq.; nails of children not
pared, 262 sq.; children’s hair left unshorn as a refuge for their souls, 263 sq.
§ 7. Ceremonies at Hair-cutting, pp. 264-267.—Ceremonies at hair-cutting in Fiji, New
Zealand, and Cambodia, 264 sq.; ceremonies at cutting the hair of Siamese children,
265-267.
§ 8. Disposal of Cut Hair and Nails, pp. 267-287.—Belief that people may be bewitched
through the clippings of their hair and the parings of their nails, 267-270; headaches
caused by clipped hair, 270 sq.; rain, hail, thunder and lightning caused by cut hair,
271 sq.; cut hair and nails used as hostages for the good behaviour of their original
owners, 272-274; cut hair and nails buried under trees or deposited among the
branches, 275 sq.; cut hair and nails stowed away in any safe place, 276-279; cut hair
and nails kept against the resurrection, 279-281; cut hair and nails burnt to prevent
them from falling into the hands of sorcerors, 281-283; hair-cutting as a purificatory
ceremony to rid persons of the virus of taboo or the pollution of death, 283-287.
§ 9. Spittle tabooed, pp 287-290.—Belief that people may be bewitched through their spittle,
287 sq.; hence precautions taken by persons, especially be chiefs and kings, to prevent
their spittle from falling into the hands of sorcerors, 288-290; use of spittle in making a
covenant, 290.
§ 10. Foods tabooed, pp. 291-293.—Certain foods tabooed to sacred persons, such as kings
and priests, 291-293; these taboos probably based on the same motive which underlies
the whole system of taboo, 293.
§ 11. Knots and Rings tabooed, pp. 293-317.—Knots and rings not worn by certain sacred
persons, 293 sq.; knots untied, locks unlocked, doors, etc., opened at childbirth to
facilitate delivery, 294-298; the crossing of the legs supposed to impede childbirth and
other things, 298 sq.; knots supposed to prevent the consummation of marriage, 299-
301; use of knots at marriage in Rotti, 301; knots used as charms to inflict or cure
disease, 301-305; knots used as charms to win lovers or capture runaway slaves, 305
sq.; knots used as charms by hunters and travellers, 306; knots used as protective
amulets in Russia and elsewhere, 306-309; the magical virtue of a knot is that of an
impediment for good or evil, 309 sq.; rule that the hair should be loose and the feet
bare at certain rites, 310 sq.; the custom of going on certain solemn occasions with one
shoe om and one shoe off intended to free the man from magical constraint and to lay
it on his enemy, 311-313; rings as amulets against demons, witches, and ghosts, 314
12
sq.; why the Flamen Dialis might not wear knots and rings, 315 sq.; the Gordian knot
perhaps a talisman, 316 sq.
13
India, 401-403; names of animals and things tabooed in Indo-China, 403 sq.; the
camphor language in the East Indies, 405-407; special language used by Malay miners,
fowlers, and fishers, 407-409; names of things and animals tabooed in Sumatra, Nias,
and Java, 409-411; names of things and animals tabooed in Celebes, 411-413; common
words tabooed in Sunda, Borneo, and the Philippines, 415 sq.; the avoidance of
common words based on a fear of spirits or of animals and fish, 416-418.
14
of the Sultans of Java, 53 sq.; religious sucides in India, 54-56; kings killed by proxy,
56 sq.; Aun, King of Sweden, and the sacrifice of his nine sons to prolong his life, 57
sq.
§ 4. Octennial Tenure of the Kingship, pp 58-92.—Spartan kings liable to be deposed on the
appearance of a meteor at the end of eight years, 58 sq.; superstitions as to meteors
and stars, 59-68; octennial period of king’s reign connected with the octennial cycle of
the early Greek calendars, which in turn is an attempt to reconcile solar and lunar
time, 68 sq.; the octennial cycle in relation to the Greek doctrine of rebirth, 69 sq.;
octennial tenure of the kingdom of Cnossus in Crete, 70 sq.; sacred marriage of the
King and Queen of Cnossus (Minos and Pasiphae) as representatives of the Sun and
Moon, 71-74; octennial tributes of youths and maidens to the Sun, represented by the
Minotaur, at Cnossus, 74-77; octennial festivals of the Crowning at Delphi and of the
Laurel-bearing at Thebes, both being dramatic representations of the slaying of a
water-dragon, 78-82; theory that the dragons of Delphi and Thebes were kings who
personated dragons or serpents, 82; Greek belief in the transformation of gods and
men into animals, 82 sq.; transformation of Cadmus and Harmonia into serpents, 84;
transmigation of the souls of the dead into serpents and other wild animals, 84 sq.;
African kings claim kinship with powerful animals, 85 sq.; the serpent the royal
animal at Athens and Salamis, 87 sq.; the wedding of Cadmus and Harmonia at
Thebes perhaps a dramatic marriage of the Sun and Moon at the end of an eight years’
cycle, 87 sq.; this theory confirmed by the astronomical symbols carried by the
Laurel-bearer at the octennial festival of Laurel-bearing, 88 sq.; the Olympic festival
based on the octennial cycle, 89 sq.; the Olympic victors, male and female, perhaps
personated the Sun and Moon and reigned as divine King and Queen for eight years,
90-92.
§ 5. Funeral Games, pp. 92-105.—Tradition of the funeral origin of the great Greek games, 92
sq.; in historical times games instituted in honour of many famous men in Greece, 93-
96; funeral games celebrated by other peoples ancient and modern, 96-98; the great
Irish fairs, in which horse-races were conspicuous, said to have been founded in
honour of the dead, 98-101; their relation to the harvest, 101-103; theory of the funeral
origin of the Olympic games insufficient to explain all the features of the legends, 103
sq.; suggested theory of the origin of the Olympic games, 104 sq.; the Olympic
festival based on astronomical, not agricultural, considerations, 105.
§ 6. The Slaughter of the Dragon, pp. 105-112.—Widespread myth of the slaughter of a great
dragon, 105; Babylonian myth of Marduk and Tiamet, 105 sq.; Indian myth of Indra
and Vrtra, 106 sq.; two interpretations of the myth, one cosmological, the other
totemic, 107-111; suggested reconciliation of the two interpretations, 111 sq.
§ 7. Triennial Tenure of the Kingship, pp. 112 sq.—Chiefs of the Remon branch of the Ijebu
tribe formerly killed at the end of a reign of three years, 112 sq.
§ 8. Annual Tenure of the Kingship, pp. 113-118.—The Sacea festival (possibly identical with
Zakmuk) at Babylon seems to shew that in early times the Babylonian kings were put
to death at the end of a year’s reign, 113-117; trace of a custom of killing the kings of
Hawaii at the end of a year’s reign, 117 sq.
§ 9. Diurnal Tenure of the Kingship, pp 118 sq.—Custom of putting the king of Ngoio to
death on the night of his coronation, 118 sq.
15
CHAPTER III.—THE SLAYING OF THE KING IN LEGEND . IV, 120-133
Story of Lancelot and the proffered kingdom in The High History of the Holy Graal, 120-122;
story of King Vikramaditya of Ujjain in India, 122-124; Vikramaditya the son of an ass
by a human mother, 124 sq.; stories of this type (Beauty and the Beast) probably based
on totemism, 125-131; story of the parentage of Vikramaditya points to a line of rajahs
who had the ass for their crest, 132; similarly the maharajahs of Nagpur trace their
descent from a cobra father and have the cobra for their crest, 132 sq.
16
CHAPTER VII.—SUCCESSION TO THE SOUL . . . IV, 196-204
Tendency of a custom of regicide to extinguish a royal family no bar to the observance of
such a custom among people who set little value on human life, 196-198; transmission
of the soul of the slain divinity to his successor, 198; transmission of the souls of
chiefs and others in Nias, America, and elsewhere, 198-200; inspired representatives of
dead kings in Africa, 200-202; right of succession to kingdom conferred by the
possession of corporeal relices of dead kings, such as their skulls, their teeth, or their
hair, 202 sq.; souls of slain Shilluk kings transmitted to their successors, 204.
17
of Carnival, Death, and Summer in these customs seem to cover an ancient spirit of
vegetation, 253 sq.
§ 7. Battle of Summer and Winter, pp. 254-261.—Dramatic contests between representatives
of Summer and Winter in Sweden, Germany, and Austria, 254-258; the Queen of
Winter and the Queen of May in the Isle of Man, 258; contests between
representatives of Summer and Winter among the Esquimaux, 259; Winter driven
away by the Canadian Indians, 259 sq.; the burning of Winter at Zurich, 260 sq.
§ 8. Death and Resurrection of Kostrubonko, pp. 261-263.—Russian ceremonies like those of
Burying the Carnival or Carrying out Death, 261; death and resurrection of
Kostrubonko at Eastertide, 261; figure of Kupalo thrown into a stream on Midsummer
day, 262; funeral of Kostroma, Lada, or Yarilo on St. Peter’s day (29th June), 262 sq.
§ 9. Death and Revivial of Vegetation, pp 263-265.—The Russion Kostrubonko, Yarilo and so
on probably in origin spirits of the dying and reviving vegetation, 263 sq.; grief and
gladness, love and hatred curiously blended in these ceremonies, 264; explusion of
Death sometimes enacted without an effigy, 264 sq.
§ 10. Analogous Rites in India, pp. 265 sq.—Images of Siva and Pârvati married, drowned,
and mourned for in India, 265 sq.; equivalence of the custom to the spring ceremonies
of Europe, 266.
§ 11. The Magic Spring, pp. 266-271.—The foregoing customs were originally rites intended
to ensure the revivial of nature in spring by means of imitative magic, 266-269; in
modern Europe these old magical rites have degenerated into mere pageants and
pastimes, 269; parallel to the spring customs of Eurpoe in the magical rites of the
aborigines of Central Australia, 269-271.
18
kings, 18 sqq.; the Baal and Baalath the sources of fertility, 26 sq.; personation of the
Baal by the king, 27; Cinyras, king of Byblus, 27 sq.; Aphaca and the vale of the
Adonis, 28 sqq.
19
CHAPTER V.—THE BURNING OF MELCARTH . . . V, 110-116
Semitic custom of sacrificing a member of the royal family, 110; the burning of Melcarth at
Type, 110 sqq.; the burning of Melcarth at Gabes, 112 sq.; the burning of a god or
goddess at Carthage, 113 sq.; the fire-walk at Tyre and at Castabala, 114 sq.; burnt
sacrifice of King Hamilcar, 115 sq.; the death of Hercules a Greek version of the
burning of Melcarth.
20
§ 9. The Burning of Cilician Gods, pp. 170 sq.—Interpretation of the fiery rites of Sandan and
Perasia, 170 sq.
21
§ 8. The Worship of Volcanoes in other Lands, pp. 216-222.—The worship of the great
volcano Kiranea in Hawaii, 216-219; sacrifices to volcanoes in America, Java, and
Sicily, 219-221; no evidence that kings and gods burnt in Asia were sacrificed to
volcanoes, 221 sq.
22
CHAPTER III.—ATTIS AS THE FATHER GOD . . . V, 281-284
Meaning of the name Attis, 281; relation of Attis to the Mother Goddess, 282 sq.; Attis as a
sky-god or Heavenly Father, 282 sqq.; the emasculation of the sky-god, 283 sq.
23
worship of Osiris, 18; the tomb of Osiris at Abydos, 18 sq.; identified with the tomb of
King Khent, 19 sq.; the sculptures effigy of Osiris, 20 sq.; the hawk crest, 21 sq.; the
association of Osiris with Byblus, 22 sq.
24
§ 5. The Resurrection of Osiris, pp. 89-91.—The resurrection of Osiris represented on the
monuments, 89 sq.; corn-stuffed effigies of Osiris buried with the dead to ensure their
resurrection, 90 sq.
§ 6. Readjustment of Egyptian Festivals, pp 91-95.—The festivals of Osiris in the months of
Athyr and Khoiak apparently the same in substance, 91 sq.; the festival of Khoiak perhaps
transferred to Athyr when the Egyptians adopted the fixed Alexandrian year, 92 sq.; at
the same time the dates of all the official Egyptian festivals perhaps shifted by about a
month in order to restore them to their natural places in the solar year, 93-95.
25
CHAPTER VIII.—OSIRIS AND THE MOON . . . . VI, 129-139
Osiris sometimes interpreted by the ancients as the moon, 129; evidence of the association of
Osiris with the moon, 129-131; identification of Osiris with the moon apparently based
on a comparatively late theory of the moon as the cause of growth and decay, 131 sq.;
practical rules founded on this theory, 132-137; the moon regarded as the source of
moisture, 137 sq.; the moon naturally worshipped by agricultural peoples, 138 sq.;
later identification of the corn-god Osiris with the moon, 139.
26
the importance of women based partly on mother-kin, partly on economic and
religious grounds, 205-208; parallel between the Pelew Islands and the ancient East,
208; mother-kin not mother-rule, 208 sq.; even with mother-kin the government in the
hands of men, not of women, 209-211; gynæocracy a dream but mother-kin a fact, 211
sq.; influence of this fact on religion, 212.
§ 3. Mother-Kin and Mother Goddesses in the Ancient Near East, pp. 212-218.—Mother-kin
in Western Asia, 212 sq.; mother-kin in Egypt, 213 sq.; Egyptian marriage of brothers
and sisters based on the system of mother-kin, 214 sqq.; the traditional marriage of
Osiris with his sister Isis a reflection of a real social custom, 216; the end of Osiris,
216 sq.; conservatism of the Egyptians, 217 sq.; original type of Osiris better preserved
than those of Adonis and Attis, 218.
27
CHAPTER II.—DEMETER AND PERSEPHONE . . . VII, 35-91
The Homeric Hymn to Demeter, 35-37; its aim to explain the foundation of the Eleusinian
mysteries by Demeter, 37 sq.; revelation of the reaped ear of corn at the mysteries, 38
sq.; Demeter and Persephone personifications of the corn, 39 sq.; Demeter in the
Homeric hymn not the Earth-goddess, 40 sq.; the Yellow Demeter of the ripe corn at
the threshing-floor, 41 sq.; the Green Demeter of the green corn, 42; the cereals called
Demeter’s fruits, 42 sq.; tradition of human life before Demeter’s time, 43; corn and
poppies as symbols of Demeter, 43 sq.; Persephone portrayed as young corn sprouting
from the ground, 44; Demeter invoked by Greek farmers before the autumnal sowing,
45 sq.; festival of mourning for the descent of Persephone at the autumnal sowing, 46;
thank-offerings of ripe grain presented to Demeter by Greek farmers after the harvest,
46-48; date of the offerings, 47 sq.; the first-fruits offered to Demeter in autumn,
because that is the season of ploughing and sowing, 48 sq.; the festival of the
Proerosia (“Before the Ploughing”) held at Eleusis in honour of Demeter, 50-53;
public offerings of the first-fruits of the barley and wheat to Demeter and Persephone
at Eleusis, 53-56; the Athenians generally believed to have spread the knowledge of
Demeter’s gift of the corn among mankind, 56-58; the Sicilians associated Demeter
with the seed-corn and Persephone with the ripe corn, 58 sq.; difficulty of
distinguishing between the two corn-goddesses, 59; the time of year when the first-
fruits were offfered to Demeter and Persephone at Eleusis unknown, 59 sq.; Festival
of the Threshing-floor (Haloa) at Eleusis, 60-63; the Green Festival and the Festival of
the Cornstalks at Eleusis, 63; epiphets of Demeter referring to the corn, 63 sq.; ancient
and modern belief that the corn-crops depended on propitiation of an image of
Demeter, 64 sq.; sacred marriage of Zeus and Demeter at Eleusis, 65-70; the
Eleusinian games sacred to Demeter and Persephone, 71; Triptolemus the mythical
hero of the corn, 72 sq.; prizes of barley given to victors in the Eleusinian games, 73
sq.; the Ancestral Contest in the games perhaps a competition between reapers, 74 sq.;
games at harvest festivals in modern Europe, 75-77; date of the Eleusinian games
uncertain, 77; quadriennial and biennial period of the games, 77 sq.; the mysteries
probably older than the games, 78 sq.; the quadriennial period of many of the great
games of Greece based on the old octenniel cycle, 79-82; the motive for instituting the
eight years’ cycle was religious, 82-84; the quardiennial and biennial periods of the
Greek games probably obtained by successive bisections of the octennial cycle, 84-87;
application of these conclusions to the Eleusinian games, 87 sq.; Varro on the rites of
Eleusis, 88; the resemblance between the artistic types of Demeter and Persephone is
in favour of their substantial identity as goddesses of the corn, 88-90; as goddesses of
the corn Demeter and Persephone came to be associated with the ideas of death and
resurrection, 90 sq.
28
101-104; tales told by the Yabim as spells to produce abundant crops, 104 sq.; narrative
spells and imperative spells, 105 sq.; use of the bull-roarer to quicken the fruits of the
earth, 106 sq.; swinging as an agricultural charm, 107; analogy of the Kayans to the
early Greeks, 107 sq.; the Sacred Ploughing at Eleusis, 108 sq.; the connection of the
Eleusinian games with agriculture confirmed by modern analogies, 110 sq.; the sacred
drama of the Eleusinian mysteries compared to the masked dances of agricultural
savages, 111 sq.
29
goddess and the Maize-god of the Mexicans, 174-177; the Corn-mother among the
North American Indians, 177.
§ 2. The Mother-cotton in the Punjaub, p. 178.
§ 3. The Barley Bride among the Berbers, pp. 178-180.
§ 4. The Rice-mother in the East Indies, pp 180-204.—The Indonesian ritual of the rice based
on a belief that the rice is animated by a soul, 180-183; rice treated by the Indonesians
as if it were a woman, 183 sq.; the Kayans of Borneo, their treatment of the soul of the
rice, 184-186; masquerade performed by the Kayans before sowing, 186 sq.;
comparison of the Kayan masquerade with the Eleusinian drama, 187 sq.; securing the
soul of the rice among the Dyaks of Northern Borneo, 188 sq.; recalling the soul of the
rice in Burma, 189-191; the Rice-mother among the Minangkabauers of Sumatra, 191
sq.; the Rice-mother among the Tomori of Celebes, 193; special words used at reaping
among the Tomori, 193; riddles and stories in connection with the rice, 194; the Rice-
mother among the Toradjas of Celebes, 194 sq.; the rice personified as a young
woman among the Bataks of Sumatra, 196; the King of the Rice in Mandeling, 197;
the Rice-mother and the Rice-child at harvest in the Malay Peninsula, 197-199; the
Rice-bride and the Rice-bridegroom at harvest in Java, 199-201; the rice-spirit as
husband and wife in Bali and Lombok, 201-203; the Father and Mother of the Rice
among the Szis of Burma, 203 sq.
§ 5. The Spirit of the Corn embodied in Human Beings, pp. 204-207.—Old women as
representatives of the Corn-goddess among the Mandans and Minnitarees, 204-206;
Miami myth of the corn-spirit in the form of an old man, 206 sq.
§ 6. The Double Personification of the Corn as Mother and Daughter, pp. 207-213.—Analogy
of Demeter and Persephone to the Corn-mother, the Harvest-maiden, and similar
figures in the harvest customs of modern European peasantry, 207-209; Demeter
perhaps the ripe crop and Persephone the seed-corn, 209 sq.; or the Grrek mythical
conception of the corn may have been duplicated when the original conception
became purely anthropomorphic, 211-213.
30
gods and spirits, 234 sq.; passing strangers treated as the spirit of the madder-root, 235
sq.; the killing of the personal representative of the corn-spirit, 236.
§ 3. Human Sacrifices for the Crops, pp. 236-251.—Human sacrifices for the crops in South
and Central America, 236-238; human sacrifices for the crops among the Pawnees, 238
sq.; human sacrifices for the crops in Africa, 239 sq.; human sacrifices for the crops in
the Philippines, 240 sq.; human sacrifices for the crops among the Wild Wa of Burma,
241-243; human sacrifices for the crops among the Shans of Indo-China and the Nagas
and other tribes of India, 243-245; human sacrifices for the crops among the Khonds,
245-249; in these Kond sacrifices the victims appear to have been regarded as divine,
249-251; traces of the identification of the human victim with the god in other
sacrifices, 251.
§ 4. The Corn-spirit slain in his Human Representatives, pp 251-289.—Analogy of these
barbarous rites to the harvest customs of Europe, 251 sq.; humam representative of the
corn-spirit slain on the harvest-field, 252 sq.; the victim who represented the corn-
spirit may have been a passing stranger or the reaper, binder, or thresher of the last
corn, 253 sq.; perhaps the victim annually sacrificed in the character of the corn-spirit
may have been the king himself, 254 sq.; relation of Lityerses to Attis, 255 sq.; human
representatives of both annually slain, 256 sq.; similiarity of the Bithynian Bormus to
the Phrygian Attis, 257; the Phoenician Linus identified with Adonis, who may have
been annually represented by a human victim, 258 sq.; the corn-spirit in Egypt (Osiris)
annually represented by a human victim, 259-261; assimilation of human victims to the
corn which they represent, 261 sq.; remains of victims scattered over the fields to
fertilise them, 262 sq.; the black and green Osiris like the black and green Demeter,
253; the key to the mysteries of Osiris furnished by the lamentations of the reapers for
the annual death of the corn-spirit, 263 sq.; “crying the Neck” at harvest in
Devonshire, 264-267; cutting “the Neck” in Pembrokeshire and Shropshire, 267 sq.;
why the last corn is called “the Neck,” 268; cries of the reapers in Germany, 269.
31
§ 6. The Corn-spirit as a Goat, pp. 281-288.—The corn-spirit in the form of a goat running
through the corn or sitting in it, 281 sq.; the corn-goat at reaping and binding the corn,
282 sq.; the corn-spirit as the Cripple Goat in Skye, 283 sq.; the corn-spirit killed as a
goat on the harvest-field, 285 sq.; the corn-goat supposed to lurk among the corn in
the barn till he is expelled by the flail of threshing, 286; the corn-goat passed on to a
neighbour who has not finished his threshing, 286 sq.; the corn-goat killed at
threshing, 287; old Prussian custom of killing a goat at sowing, 288.
§ 7. The Corn-spirit as a Bull, Cow, or Ox, pp 288-292.—The corn-spirit in the form of a bull
running through the corn or lying in it, 288; the corn-spirit as a bull, ox, or cow at
harvest, 288-290; the corn-spirit in the form of a bull or ox killed at the close of the
reaping, 290; the corn-spirit as a bull or cow at threshing, 290 sq.; the corn-spirit as a
bull supposed to be killed at threshing, 291 sq.; the corn-spirit as a calf at harvest or in
spring, 292.
§ 8. The Corn-spirit as a Horse or Mare, pp 292-294.—The corn-spirit as a horse running
through the corn, 292; “crying the Mare” in Hertfordshire and Shropeshire, 292-294;
the corn-spirit as a horse in France, 294.
§ 9. The Corn-spirit as a Bird, pp 295 sq.—The corn-spirit as a quail, 295; the rice-spirit as a
blue bird, 295 sq.; the rice-spirit as a quail, 296.
§ 10. The Corn-spirit as a Fox, pp 296 sq.—The corn-spirit in the form of a fox running
through the corn or sitting in it, 296; the corn-spirit as a fox at reaping the last corn,
296 sq.; the corn-spirit as a fox at threshing, 297; the Japanese rice-god associated with
the fox, 297.
§ 11. The Corn-spirit as a Pig, pp 298-303.—The corn-spirit as a boar rushing through the
corn, 298; the corn-spirit as a sow at threshing, 298, sq.; the corn-spirit as a pig at
sowing, 300; the corn-spirit embodied in the Yule or Christmas Boar of Scandinavia
and Esthonia, 300-303.
§ 12. On the Animal Embodiments of the Corn-spirit, pp 303-305.—Sacramental character of
the harvest-supper, 303; parallelism between the conceptions of the corn-spirit in
human and animal forms, 303 sq.; suggested reason for the many animal forms to be
assumed by the corn-spirit, 304 sq.
32
§ 3. Attis, Adonis, and the Pig, pp. 22-24.—Attis and the pig, 22; Adonis and the boar, 22 sq.;
ambiguous position of pigs at Hierapolis, 23; attitude ot the Jews to the pig, 23 sq.
§ 4. Osiris, the Pig and the Bull, pp 24-39.—Attitude of the ancient Egyptians to the Pig, 24;
annual sacrifice of pigs to Osiris and the moon, 25; belief that the eating of a sacred
animal causes skin-disease, especially leprosy, 25-27; mere contact with a sacred
object is deemed dangerous and requires purification, 27-29; the pig probably regarded
at first as an embodiment of the corn-god Osiris, though afterwards it was looked on
as an embodiment of his enemy Typhon, 29-31; the havoc wrought by wild boars in
the corn a reason for regarding them as foes of the corn-god, 31-33; the annual killing
of the pig represented the annual killing of Osiris, 33 sq.; Egpytian sacrifices of red
oxen and red-haired men, 34; Osiris identified with the sacred bulls Apis and Mnevis,
34 sq.; stratification of three types of religion in ancient Egypt, 35 sq.; the
stratification of religions corresponding to certain social types, 36 sq.; examples of the
religion of pastoral peoples, reverence of the Dinka and Nuehr for their cattle, 37-39.
§ 5. Virbius and the Horse, pp. 40-47.—Tradition that Virbius in the character of Hippolytus
was killed by horses, custom of excluding horses from the Arician grove, 40; goats
excluded from the Acropolis at Athens, but sacrificed on it once a year, 40 sq.; a horse
annually sacrificed at Rome in October, apparently as an embodiment of the corn-
spirit, 42 sq.; analogy of the sacrifice to harvest customs of Northern Europe, 43 sq.;
other examples of the exclusion of horses from sanctuaries, 45 sq.; uncertainty as to
the reason for excluding horses from the Arician grove, 47.
33
food in the stomach of the eater, 83-85; the sacrament of first-fruits sometimes
combined with a sacrifice of them to gods or spirits, 86.
§ 2. Eating the God among the Aztecs, pp. 86-95.—Dough images of the god Huitzilopochtli
or Vitzilipuztli eaten sacramentally, 86-89; transubstantiation taught by the
Brahamans, 89 sq.; the god Huitzilpochtli killed in effigy and eaten, 90 sq.; other
dough images eaten sacramentally by the Mexicans, 91; man killed and eaten as an
embodiment of the god Tetzacatlipoca, 92 sq.; effigy of a got eaten sacramentally by
the Huichol Indians of Mexico and the Malas of Southern India, 93 sq.; effigies of the
Madonna eaten in Europe, 94.
§ 3. Many Manii at Aricia, pp. 94-108.—Loves called Maniæ baked at Aricia, 94; wooden
effigies dedicated to Mania, the Mother or Grandmother of Ghosts, at the Roman
festival of the Compitalia, 94 sq.; the loaves at Aricia perhaps sacramental bread made
in the likeness of the King of the Wood, 95 sq.; practice of putting up dummies to
divert the attention of ghosts or demons from the living, 96; Tibetan custom of putting
effigies at the doors of houses to deceive demons, 96 sq.; effigies buried with the dead
in order to deceive their ghosts, 97 sq.; fictitious burials to divert the attention of
demons from the real burials, 98-100; effigies used to cure or prevent sickness by
deluding the demons of disease or inducing them to accept the effigies instead of the
persons, 100-102; effigies used to divert the attention of demons in Nias and various
parts of Asia, 102-104; effigies used to divert ghostly and other evil influence from
people in China, 104 sq.; effigies used as substitutes to save the lives of people among
the Abchases of the Caucasus, the Ewe negroes of West Africa, and the Nishga
Indians of British Columbia, 105-107; hence the wooden effigies hung out at the
Roman Compitalia were probably offered as substitutes for living persons to the
Mother or Grandmother of Ghosts, 107 sq.
34
139 sq.; Bushman and other African beliefs as to the homeopathic magic of the flesh
of animals, 140-143; ancient beliefs as to the homeopathic magic of the flesh of
animals, 143; beliefs of the Dyaks and Aino as to the homeopathic magic of the flesh
of animals, 144 sq.; beliefs as to the homeopathic magic of the flesh of dogs, tigers,
etc., 145 sq.; beliefs as to the homeopathic magic of the flesh of wolves, bears, and
serpents, 146 sq.; various beliefs as to the homeopathic magic of the flesh of animals,
147 sq.; the flesh and blood, but especially the hearts, of dead men eaten or drunk for
the sake of keeping the good qualities of the dead, 148-11; other parts than the heart
eaten for the same purpose, 151-153; moral virtues of the dead acquired through
simple contact with their bones, 153 sq.; covenant of friendship formed with dead foes
by drinking their blood, 154 sq.; blood-covenant formed by manslayers with the
ghosts of their victims, 155 sq.; communion with the dead by swallowing their ashes,
156-158; savages attempt to inoculate themselves with moral and other virtues, 156-
160; the Zulus and other Caffres inoculate themselves against lightning, 160-162; some
savages seek to acquire the qualities of the dead by anointing themselves with their
remains, 162-164; the juices of animals sometimes similarly applied for the same
purpose, 164 sq.; magical ointment used by Mexican priests, 165 sq.; qualities of a
person, animal, or thing imparted by fumigation, 166 sq.; the savage custom of eating
a god, 167; Cicero on transubstantiation, 167 sq.
35
CHAPTER XIV.—THE PROPITIATION OF WILD ANIMALS BY
HUNTERS . . . . . . . . VIII, 204-273
Savage belief that animals, like men, are endowed with immortal souls, 204; American
Indians draw no sharp distinction between men and animals, 204-206; some savages
fail to discriminate clearly between the bodies of animals and the bodies of men, 206-
208; hence the savage propititates the animals which he kills and other members of the
same species, 208; scruples entertained and ceremonies observed at killing crocodiles,
208-215; scruples entertained and ceremonies observed at killing tigers, 215-217;
snakes, especially rattle-snakes, respected by the North American Indians, 217-219;
ceremonies observed in Kiriba (Central Africa) at killing a snake, 219 sq.; ceremonies
observed at the killing of a wolf, 220 sq.; ceretain birds respected, 221; apologies
offered by savages to the animals which they are obliged to kill, 221 sq.; propitiation
of slain bears by Kamtchatkans, Ostiaks, Koryak, Finns, and Lapps, 222-224;
propitiation of slain bears by the North American Indians, 224-227; propitiation of
slain elephants in Africa, 227 sq.; propitiation of lions in Africa, 228; propitiation of
slain leopards in Africa, 228-231; propitiation of slain buffaloes and sheep in Uganda,
231 sq.; propitiation of dead whales among the Koryak, 232-235; propitiation of dead
hippopotamuses, ounces, and apes, 235 sq.; propitiation of dead eagles, 236; deceiving
the ghosts of spiders, 236 sq.; animals which, without being feared, are valued for
their flesh or skin, are also treated with respect, 237 sq.; respect shewn to dead sables,
238; bones of sables and beavers kept from dogs, lest the spirits of the dead animals
shouyld be offended, 238-240; deer, elk, and elan treated by American Indians with
tremendous respect, 240-243; porcupines, turtles, and mice treated by American
Indians with ceremonious respect, 243 sq.; dead foxes, turtles, deer, and pigs treated
with ceremonious repsect, 244 sq.; ghost of ostritch outwitted, 245; Esquimau
propitiation of the spirit who control the reindeer, 245 sq.; ceremonious treatment of
sea-beasts by the Esquimaux, 246 sq.; annual Esquimau ceremony of returning the
bladders of sea-beasts to the sea, in order that the animals may come to life again, 247-
249; fish treated with respect by fishing tribes, 249-253; ceremonious treatment of the
first fish of the season, 253-256; the bones of animals preserved in order to facilitate
their resurrection, 256-259; the bones of men preserved or destroyed in order to assist
or prevent their resurrection, 259 sq.; unquestioning belief of the savage in the
immortality of animals, 260; the primitive theory of dreams hardly sufficient to
account for this belief, 260 sq.; apparently the savage conceives life as an
indestructible form of energy, 261 sq.; analogy of this conception to the modern
scientific conception of the conservation of energy, 262; resurrection of the body in
tales and legends, 263 sq.; the sinew of the thigh regularly cut out and thrown away by
American Indians, 264; story told by the Indians to explain the custom, 265; the
custom apparently based on sympathetic magic, 266 sq.; hamstringing dead game or
putting out their eyes in order to lame or blind the ghosts of the animals, 267 sq.; the
cutting out the tongues of dead animals perhaps sometimes intended to prevent their
ghosts from telling tales, 269; tongues of animals cut out in order to confer special
knowledge and power on their possesors, 270 sq.; Bechuana custom of mutilating an
ox in order by sympathetic magic to inflict corresponding mutilations on the enemy,
271l; mutilation of the corpses of enemies or other dangerous persons for the purpose
of maiming their ghosts, 271-273.
36
CHAPTER XV.—THE PROPITIATION OF VERMIN BY FARMERS VIII, 274-284
§ 1. The Enemies of the Crops, pp 274-281.—Propitiation of the vermin which infest crops
and cattle in Europe, 274 sq.; similar attempts made to propitiate vermin by savages,
275 sq.; the happy mean in dealing with rats and mice, 276-278; sometimes a few of
the vermin are honoured, while the rest are exterminated, 278 sq.; mock lamentations
of women for the insects which destroy the crops, 279 sq.; images of vermin made as a
charm to get rid of them, 280 sq.
§ 2. Mouse Apollo and Wolf Apollo, pp. 282-284.—Greek gods who took titles from vermin,
282; Mouse (Smintheus) Apollo, 282 sq.; Wolfish Apollo, 283 sq.
37
Thrace and Bulgaria, 331-334; in all these cases the ceremonial ploughing and sowing
are probably charms to ensure the growth of the crops, 334 sq.; such rites date from a
remote antiquity, 335.
38
transference of sins to sin-eater in England and India, 43-45; transference of sins in
Tahiti, 45 sq.
§ 5. The Transference of Evil in Europe, pp 47-59.— Transference of evils in ancient Greece,
47 sq.; transference of warts, 48 sq.; transference of sickness, 49; sickness transferred
to animals, 49-53; sickness and ill-luck transferred to inanimate objects, 53 sq.;
sickness and trouble transferred to trees and bushes, 54-59.
§ 6. The Nailing of Evils, pp. 59-71.— Sickness and pain pegged or nailed into trees, 59 sq.;
gods, ghosts, and demons bunged up or nailed down, 60-62; evils and devils nailed
into stones, walls, doorposts, and so on, 62-64 ; plague and civil discord nailed into a
wall in ancient Rome, 64-66; annual ceremony of knocking a nail in Rome probably a
purificatory rite, 66-69 ; nails knocked into idols to attract the attention of the gods or
spirits, 69-71.
39
China, 139 sq.; periodical expulsion of demons in Bali, 140 sq.; annual expulsion of
the fire-spirit among the Shans, 141; annual ceremony in Fiji, 141 sq.; annual
ceremony in Tumleo, 142 sq.; annual expulsion of demons in Japan, 143 sq.; annual
expulsion of poverty and demons in China, India, and Persia, 144 sq.; annual
expulsion of demons at end of the year in China, 145-147; annual expulsion of demons
in Tonquin, 147 sq., in Cambodia, 149, in Siam, 149-151; annual reception and
expulsion of the spirits of the dead in Japan, 151-152, in ancient Greece, 152-154, in
ancient Rome, 154 sq.; annual expulsion of Satan among the Wotyaks and Cheremiss
of Russia, 155 sq.; annual expulsion of witches and other powers of evil in Christian
Europe, 157; widesprcad fear of witches and wiurds in Europe, 157 sq.; annual
expulsion and burning of witches on Walpurgis Night, 158-164; annual expulsion of
witches during the Twelve Days from Christmas to Epiphany, 164-167 ; annual
expulsion of Trows in Shetland on Antinmas, 167-169.
40
pardoned at Rouen on Ascension Day perhaps a public scapegoat, 215 sq.; divine
animals as scapegoats in India and ancient Egypt, 216 sq.; divine men as scapegoats
among the Gonds of India and the Albanians of the Caucasus, 217 sq.; annual human
scapegoats in Tibet, 218-221; the original Tibetan scapegoat perhaps the Grand Lama,
221-223.
41
with fig-branches and squills was probably intended to increase their reproductive
energies, 272 sq.; parallel between the human sacrIfices at the Thargelia and the
bloody ritual of the Arician grove, 273 sq.
42
associated with the intercalary periods among the Aztecs and Mayas, 339 sq.; the five
supplementary days of the year in ancient Egypt, 340-342; early attempts of Aryan
peoples to substitute an intercalary month at longer intervals for the annual Twelve
Days, 342-345.
§ 3. The Saturnalia and Lent, pp 345-350.—The modern Carnival perhaps the equivalent of the
ancient Saturnalia, 345 sq.; the Saturnalia, a festival of sowing, may have originally
fallen at the time of the spring sowing, 346 sq.; the Lenten fast in spring may be an old
heathen period of abstinence intended to promote the growth of the seed, 347 sq.; the
forty days’ mourning for Persephone, the Greek goddess of corn, 348 sq.; the Buddhist
Lent, 349 sq.
§ 4. Saturnalia in Ancient Greece, pp. 350-354.—Inversion of social ranks at ancient Greek
festivals in Crete, Troezen, and Thessalay, 350 sq.; festival of the Cronia compared to
the Saturnalia, 351 sq.; the Olympian Cronia held at the spring equinox, 352; one of
the kings of the Olympian Cronia perhaps put to death in the character of King
Cronus, 352 sq.; sacrifice of a man at the Cronia in Rhodes, 353 sq.
§ 5. Saturnalia in Western Asia, pp 354-407.— The Babylonian festival of the Sacæa, 354 sq. ;
the Sacæa probably IdentIcal wIth Zakmuk or Zagmuk, the Babylonian festival of
New Year in March, 355-358; apparent discrepancy in the dates of the festivals, 358
sq.; identity of the two festivals Sacæa and Zakmuk confirmed by the connexion of
both with the Jewish Purim, 359-364; origin of Purim according to the book of Esther,
364 sq.; the rival pairs Mordecai and Esther on the one side, Haman and Vashti on the
other, 365; Jensen's theory of their opposition, 366 sq.; the mock King of the Sacæa
probably personated a god and paired \vith a woman who personated a goddess, 368
sq.; reminiscence of such pairs in the legend of Semiramis (Ishtar, Astarte) and her
lovers, 369-372; the sacred drama acted at Zela in Pontus, 372 sq.; such sacred dramas
are magical rites intended to influence the course of nature, 373 sq.; magical intention
of sacred dramas and masked dances among the savages of America, New Guinea,
and Borneo, 374-384; religious origin of the drama in Greece and India, 384 sq.;
suggested reconciliation of Euhemerism with a rival school of mythology, 385 sq.; the
widespread Oriental myth of the loving goddess and the dying god probably acted
every year by a human couple, 386 sq.; Sardanapalus and Ashurbanapal, 387 sq.; the
burning of Sandan, 388-390; death in the fire of human representatives of gods. 390-
392; traces of human sacrifices at Purim, effigies of Haman burnt. 392-394;
accusations of ritual murder brought against the Jews, 394-396; mitigated form of
human sacrifice, 396 sq.; the “fast of Esther” before Purim compared with the
mourning for Tammuz, 397.
§ 6. Conclusion, pp. 407-411.—Wide prevalence of festivals like the Saturnalia in antiquity,
407; the social and political conditions implied by such festivals, 407 sq.; the decline
and fall of the festivals, 408 sq.; probably homogeniety of civilization over a great part
of the old world in antiquity, 409; possible influence of the sacrifice of deified men on
cosmogonical theories, 409-411.
43
416; theory that Christ died in the character of Haman helps explain Pilate’s reluctance
and the inscription on the cross 416 sq.; part of Mordecai may have been played by
Barabbas, 417 sq.; the mock King Carabas in Egypt, 418-419; hypothesis that every
Spring at Purim or Passover the Jews paraded two prisoners in the character of Haman
and Morcdecai, of whom one was put do death, the other released, 419; Barabbas may
have been the regular title of the prisoner released in the charcter of Mordecai, 419
sq.; theory that Christ was put to death, not as a criminal, but as the annual
representative of a god whose counterparts were well known all over Western Asia,
may help explain his early deification and the rapid spread of his worship, 420-423.
44
§ 4. Seclusion of Girls at Puberty among the Indians of North America, pp 41-55.—Seclusion
of girls at puberty among the Indians of California, 41-43; among the Indians of
Washington State, 43; among the Nootka Indians of Vancouver Island, 43 sq.; among
the Hakla Indians of the Queen Charlotte Islands, 44 sq.; among the Tlingit Indians of
Alaska, 45 sq.; among the Tsetsaut and Bella Coola Indians of British Columbia, 46
sq.; among the Tinneh Indians of British Columbia, 47 sq.; among the Tinneh Indians
of Alaska, 48 sq.; among the Thompson Indians of British Columbia, 49-52; among
the Lillooet Indians of British Columbia, 52 sq.; among the Shuswap Indians of
British Columbia, 53 sq; among the Delaware and Cheyenne Indians, 54 sq.; among
the Esquimaux, 55 sq.
§ 5. Seclusion of Girls at Puberty among the Indians of South America, pp 56-68.—Seclusion
of girls at puberty among the Guaranis, Chriiguanoa, and Lengun Indians, 56 sq.;
among the Yuracares of Bolivia, 57 sq.; among the Indians of the Gran Chaco, 58 sq.;
among the Indians of Brazil, 59 sq.; among the Indians of Guiana, 60 sq.; beating the
girls and stinging them with ants, 61; stinging young men with ants and wasps as an
initiatory rite, 61-63; stinging men and women with ants to improve their character or
health or to render them invulerable, 63 sq.; in such cases the beating or stinging was
originally a purification, not a test of courage and endurance, 65 sq.; this explanation
confirmed by the beating of girls among the Banivas of the Orinoco to rid them of a
demon, 66-68; symptoms of puberty in a girl regarded as wounds inflicted on her by a
demon, 68.
§ 6. Seclusion of Girls at Puberty in India and Cambodia, pp 68-70.—Seclusion of girls at
puberty among the Hindoos, 68; in Southern India, 68-80; in Cambodia, 70.
§ 7. Seclusion of Girls at Puberty in Folk-tales, pp 70-76.—Danish story of the girl who might
not see the sun, 70-72; Tyrolese story of the girl who might not see the sun, 72;
modern Greek stories of the maid who might not see the sun, 72 sq.; ancient Greek
story of Danæ and its parallel in a Kirghit legend, 73 sq.; impregnation of women by
the sun in legends, 74 sq.; traces in marriage customs of the belief that women can be
impregnated by the sun, 75; belief in the impregnation of women by the moon, 75 sq.
§ 8. Reasons for the Seclusion of Girls at Puberty, pp 76-100.—The reason for the seclusion
of girls at puberty is the dread of menstruous blood, 76; dread and seclusion of
menstruous women among the aborigines of Australia, 76-78; in Torres Straits Islands,
New Guinea, Galea, and Sumatra, 78 sq.; among the trides of South Africa, 79 sq.;
among the tribes of Central and East Africa, 82; among the tribes of West Africa, 82;
powerful influence ascribed to menstruous blood in Arab legend, 82 sq.; dread and
seclusion of menstruous women among the Jews and in Syria, 83 sq.; in India, 84 sq.;
in Annam, 85; among the Indians of Central and South America, 85 sq; among the
Indians of North America, 87-94; among the Creek, Choctaw, Omaha and Cheyenne
Indians, 88 sq.; among the Indians of British Columbia, 89 sq.; among the Chippeway
Indians, 90 sq.; among the Tinneh or Déné Indians, 91; among the Carrier Indians, 91-
94; similar rules of seclusion enjoined on menstruous women in ancient Hindoo,
Persian, and Hebrew codes, 94-96; superstitions as to menstruous women in ancient
and modern Europe, 96 sq.; the intention of secluding menstruous women is to
neutralize the dangerous influences which are thought to emanate from them in that
condition, 97; suspension between heaven and earth, 97; the same explanation applies
to the similar rules of seclusion observed by divine kings and priests, 97-99; stories of
immortality attained by suspension between heaven and earth.
45
CHAPTER III.—THE MYTH OF BALDER . . . . X, 101-105
How Balder, the good and beautiful god, was done to death by a stroke of mistletoe, 101 sq.;
story of Balder in the older Edda, 102 sq.; story of Balder as told by Saxo
Grammaticus, 103; Balder worshipped in Norway, 104; legendary death of Balder
resembles the legendery death of Isfendiyar in the epic of Firdusi, 104 sq.; the myth of
Balder perhaps acted as a magical ceremony; the two main ingredients of the myth,
namely the pulling of the mistletoe and the burning of the god, have perhaps their
counterpart in popular ritual, 105.
46
of Man to burn the witches, 157; in Nottinghamshire, 157; in Ireland, 157-159; fires on
the Eve of May Day in Sweden, 159; in Austria and Saxony to burn the witches, 159
sq.
§ 4. The Midsummer Fires, pp 160-219.—The great season for fire-festivals in Europe is
Midsummer Eve or Midsummer Day, which the church has dedicated to St. John the
Baptist, 160 sq.; the bonfires, the torches, and the burning wheels of the festival, 161;
Thomas Kirchmayer’s description of the Midsummer festival, 162 sq.; the Midsummer
fires in Germany, 163-171; burning wheel rolled down hill at Konz on the Moselle, 163
sq.; Midsummer fires in Bavaria, 164-166; in Swabia, 166 sq.; in Baden, 167-169; in
Alsace, Lorraine, the Eifel, the Harz district, and Thuringia, 169; Midsummer fires
kindled by the friction of wood, 169 sq.; driving away the witches and demons, 170;
Midsummer fires in Silesia, scaring away the witches, 170 sq.; Midsummer fires in
Denmark and Norway, keeping off the witches, 171; Midsummer fires in Sweden, 172;
Midsummer fires in Switzerland and Austria, 172 sq.; in Bohemia, 173-175; in
Moravia, Austrian Silesia, and the district of Cracow, 175; among the Slavs of Russia,
176; in Prussia and Lithuania as a protection against witchcraft, thunder, hail and
cattle disease, 176 sq.; in Masuren the fire is kindled by the revolution of a wheel, 177;
Midsummer fires among the Letts of Russian, 177 sq.; among the South Slavs, 178;
among the Magyars, 178 sq.; among the Esthonians, 179 sq.; among the Finns and
Chereniss of Russia, 180 sq.; in France, 181-194; Boussuet on the Midsummer festival,
182; the Midsummer fires in Britanny, 183-185; in Normandy, the Brotherhood of the
Green Wolf at Jumièges, 185 sq.; Midsummer fires in Picary, 187 sq.; in Beance and
Perche, 188; the fires a protection against witchcraft, 188; the Midsummer fires in the
Ardennes, the Vosges, and the Jura, 188 sq.; in Franche-Comté, 189; in Berry and
other parts of central France, 189 sq.; in Poitou, 190 sq.; in the departments of Vienne
and Deux-Sèvres and in the provinces of Saintonge and Aunis, 191 sq.; in Southern
France, 192 sq.; Midsummer festival of fire and water in Provence, 193 sq.;
Midsummer fires in Belgium, 194-196; in England, 196-200; John Aubrey on the
Midsummer fires, 197; Midsummer fires in Cumberland, Northumberland, and
Yorkshire, 197 sq.; in Herefordshire, Somersetshire, Devonshire, and Cornwall, 199
sq.; in Wales and the Isle of Man, 200 sq.; in Ireland, 201-205; holy wells resorted to to
on Midsummer Eve in Ireland, 205 sq.; Midsummer fires in Scotland, 206 sq.;
Midsummer fires and divination in Spain and the Azores, 208 sq.; Midsummer fires in
Corsica and Sardinia, 209; in the Abruzzi, 209 sq.; in Sicily, 210; in Malta, 210 sq.; in
Greece and the Greek islands, 211 sq.; in Macedonia and Albania, 212; in South
America, 212 sq.; among the Mohammedans of Morocco and Algeria, 213-216; the
Midsummer festival in North Africa comprises rites of water as well as fire, 216;
similar festival of fire and water at New Year in North Africa, 217 sq.; the duplication
of the festival probably due to a conflict between the solar calendar of the Romans
and the lunar calendar of the Arabs, 218 sq.; the Midsummer festival in Morocco
apparently of Berber origin, 219.
§ 5. The Autumn Fires, pp 220-222.—Festivals of fire in August, 220; “living fire” made by
the friction of wood, 220; feast of the Nativity of the Virgin on the eighth of
September at Capri and Naples 220-222.
§ 6. The Hallowe’en Fires, pp 222-246.—While the Midsummer festival implies oberservation
of the solstices, the Celts appear to have divided their year without regard to the
solstices, by the times when they drove their cattle to and from the summer pasture on
the first of May and the last of October (Hallowe’en), 222-224; the two great Celtic
festivals of Beltane (May Day) and Hallowe’en (the last of October), 224; Hallowe’en
47
seems to have marked the beginning of the Celtic year, 224 sq.; it was a season of
divination and a festival of the dead, 225 sq.; fairies and hobgoblins let loose at
Hallowe’en, 226-228; divination in Celtic countries at Hallowe’en, 228 sq.; Hallowe’en
bonfires in the Highlands of Scotland, 229-232; Hallowe’en fires in Buchan to burn the
witches, 232 sq.; processions with torches at Hallowe’en in the Bræmer Highlands,
233 sq.; divination at Hallowe’en in the Highlands and Lowlands of Sctoland, 234-239;
Hallowe’en fires in Wales, omens drawn from stones cast into the fires, 239 sq.;
divination at Hallowe’en in Wales, 240 sq.; divination at Hallowe’en in Ireland, 241-
243; Hallowe’en fires and divination in the Isle of Man, 243 sq.; Hallowe’en fires and
divination in Lancashire, 244 sq.; marching with lighted candles to keep off the
witches, 245; divination at Hallowe’en in Northumberland, 245; Hallowe’en fires in
France, 245 sq.
§ 7. The Midwinter Fires, pp 246-269.—Christmas the continuation of an old heathen festival
of the sun, 246; the Yule log the Midwinter counterpart of the Midsummer bonfire,
247; the Yule log in Germany, 247-249l in Switzerland, 249; in Belgium, 249; in
France, 249-255; French superstitions as to the Yule log, 250; the Yule log at
Marseilles and in Perigord, 250 sq.; in Berry, 251 sq.; in Normandy and Brittany, 252
sq.; in the Ardennes, 253 sq.; in the Vosges, 254; in Franche-Comté, 254 sq.; the Yule
log and Yule candle in England, 255-258; the Yule log in the north of England and
Yorkshire, 256 sq.; in Lincolnshire, Warwickshire, Shropshire and Herefordshire, 257
sq.; in Wales, 258; in Servia, 258-262; among the Servians of Slavonia, 262 sq.; among
the Servians of Dalmatia, Herzegovinia, and Montenegro, 263 sq.; in Albania, 264;
belief that the Yule log protects against fire and lightning, 264 sq.; public fire-festivals
at Midwinter, 265-269; Christmas bonfire at Schweina in Thuringia, 265 sq.; Christmas
bonfires in Normany, 266; bonfires on St. Thomas’ Day in the Isle of Man, 266; the
“Burning of the Clavie” at Burghead on the last day of December, 266-268; Christmas
procession with burning tar-barrels at Lerwick, 268 sq.
§ 8. The Need-fire, pp 269-300.—Need-fire kindled not at fixed periods but on occasions of
distress and calamity, 269; the need-fire in the Middle Ages and down to the end of
the sixteenth century, 270 sq.; mode of kindling the need-fire by the friction of wood,
271 sq.; the need-fire in Central Germany, particularly about Hildesheim, 272 sq.; the
need-fire in the Mark, 273; in Mecklenburg, 274 sq.; in Hanover, 275 sq.; in the Harz
Mountains, 276 sq.; in Brunswick, 277 sq.; in Silesia and Bohemia, 278 sq.; in
Switzerland, 279 sq.; in Sweden and Norway, 280; among the Slavonic peoples, 281-
286; in Russia and Poland, 281 sq.; in Slavonia, 282; in Servia, 282-284; in Bulgaria,
284-286; in Bosnia and Herzegovina, 286; in England, 286-289; in Yorkshire, 286-288;
in Northumberland, 288 sq.; in Scotland, 289-297; Martin’s account of it in the
Highlands, 289; the need-fire in Mull, 289 sq.; in Caithness, 290-292; W. Grant
Stewart’s account of the need-fire, 292 sq.; Alexander Carmichael’s account, 293-295;
the need-fire in Aberdeenshire, 297; in Perthshire, 296 sq.; in Ireland, 297; the use of a
need-fire a relic of the time when all fires were similarly kindled by the friction of
wood, 297 sq.; the belief that need-fire cannot kindle if any other fires remain alight in
the neighbourhood, 298 sq.; the need-fire among the Iroquois of North America, 299
sq.
§ 9. The Sacrifice of an Animal to stay a Cattle-plague, pp 300-327.—The burnt sacrifice of a
calf in England and Wales, 300 sq.; burnt sacrifice of animals in Scotland, 301 sq.; calf
burnt in order to break a spell which has been cast on the herd, 302 sq.; mode in which
the burning of a bewitched animal is supposed to break the spell, 303-305; in burning
the bewitched animal you burn the witch herself, 305; practice of burning cattle and
48
shep as sacrifices in the Isle of Man, 305-307; by burning a bewitched animal you
compel the witch to appear, 307; magic sympathy between the witch and the
bewitched animal, 308; similar sympathy between a were-wolf and his or her human
shape, wounds inflicted on the animal are felt by the man or woman, 308; were-
wolves in Europe, 308-310; in China, 310 sq.; among the Toradjas of Central Celebes,
311-313; in the Egyptian Sudan, 313; the were-wolf story in Petronius, 313 sq.; witches
like were-wolves can temporarily transform themselves into animals, and wounds
inflicted on the transformed animal appear on the persons of the withces, 315 sq.;
instances of such transformations and wounds in Scotland, England, Ireland, France,
and Germany, 316-321; hence the reason for burning bewitched animals is either to
burn the witch herself or at all events compel her to appear, 321 sq; the like reason for
burning bewitched things, 322 sq.; similarly by burning a person whose likeness a
witch has assumed you compel the witch to disclose herself, 323; woman burnt alive
as a witch in Ireland at the end of the nineteenth century, 323 sq.; bewitched animals
sometimes buried alive instead of being burned, 324-326; calves killed and buried to
save the rest of the herd, 326 sq.
49
CHAPTER VI.—FIRE-FESTIVALS IN OTHER LANDS . . . XI, I-20
§ 1. The Fire-walk, pp 1-15.—Bonfires at the Pongol festival in Southern India, 1 sq.; bonfires
at the Holi festival in Northern India, the priest expected to pass through the fire, 2
sq.; the fire-walk in China, 3-5; passage of inspired men over the fire in India, 5 sq.;
the fire-walk at Hindoo festival in honour of Darma Rajah and Draupadi, 6-8 the fire-
walk among the Badagas of Southern India, 8 sq.; the fire-walk in Japan, 9 sq.; in Fiji,
10 sq.; in Tahiti, the Marquesas Islands, and Trinidad, 11; Hottentot custom of driving
sheep through fire and smoke, 11-13; fire applied to sick cattled by the Nandi and
Zulus, 13; the fire-walk among the Indians of Yucatan, 13 sq.; the fire-walk in
antiquity at Castabala in Cappadocia and at Mount Soracte near Rome, 14 sq.
§ 2. The Meaning of the Fire-walk, pp 15-20.—Little evidence that the fire-walk is a sun-
charm, 15 sq.; more probably the fire-walk is a purification designed to burn up or
repel the powers of evil, 16 sq.; custom of stepping over fires to get rid of ghosts, 17
sq.; widow fumigated, probably to get rid of her husband’s ghost, 18 sq.; the chief use
of fire at the European fire-festivals probably to burn or repel witches, to whose
maleficent arts the people ascribed most of their troubles, 19 sq.
50
camomile, 63; mullein, 63 sq.; seeds of fir-cones, wild thyme, elder-flowers, and
purple loosestrife, 64 sq.; fern-seed, 65-67; hazel or mistletoe cut to serve as a
divining-rod, 67-69; mythical springwort, 69-71; the magical virtues ascribed to
plants and flowers at Midsummer may be deemed to flow from the sun, then at the
height of his power and glory, 71 sq.; the Midsummer bonfires may also, as
Mannhardt thought, be supposed to stand in direct relation to the sun, 72;
miscellaneous examples of the baleful activity of witches at Midsummer and the
precautions then taken against them, 73-75.
51
CHAPTER XI.—THE EXTERNAL SOUL IN FOLK-CUSTOM . XI, 153-278
§ 1. The External Soul in Inanimate Things, pp 153-159.—The soul removed from the body in
seasons of danger and temporarily deposited in a safe place, such as a bag or a
chopping-knife, 153 sq.; children’s souls deposited in coco-nuts or bags, 154 sq.; souls
of persons in ornaments, horns, stones, a pillar, and so forth, 155-157; strength or
people in their hair, criminals and witches shorn in order to deprive them of their
power, 158 sq.
§ 2. The External Soul in Plants, pp 159-195.— Life of a person supposed to be bound up with
that of a tree or plant, 159 sq.; birth-trees in Africa, 160-163; birth-trees among the
Papuans, Maoris, Fijians, Dyaks, and others, 163-165; birth-trees in Europe, 165; trees
with which the fate of families or individuals is thought to be bouud up, 165-167; the
life-tree of the Manchu dynasty, 167 sq.; life-trees in ancient Rome, 168; life of
persons supposed to be bound up with that of the cleft trees through which in their
youth they were passed as a cure for rupture, 168; English custom of passing ruptured
or rickety children through cleft ash-trees, 168-170; European custom of passing
ruptured or rickety children through cleft oaks, 170-172; sympathetic relation between
a child and the tree through which it has been passed, 172; the disease apparently
thought to be left behind on the farther side of the cleft tree, 172 sq.; creeping through
cleft trees or sticks to get rid of spirits or ghosts, 173-176; the cleft tree or stick
through which a person has passed is a barrier to part him from a dangerous pursuer,
176; combined with this in the case of ruptured patients seems to be the idea that the
rupture heals sympathetically as the cleft in the tree closes, 176 sq.; other cases of
creeping through narrow openings after a death, probably in order to escape the ghost,
177-179; crawling through arches to escape demons or disease, 179-181; passing
through cleft sticks to escape sickness or ghosts, I8I-IS3; passing through cleft sticks
in connexion with puberty and circumcision, 183 sq.; crawling through a ring or hoop
as a cure or preventive of disease, 184-186; crawling through holed stones as a cure in
Scotland, Cornwall, France, Bavaria, Austria, Greece, and Asia Minor, 186-190;
passing through various narrow openings as a cure or preventive in India and Ireland,
190; passing through holes in the ground as a cure, 190-192 ; passing through the yoke
of a chariot as a cure for skin disease, 192; passing under a yoke or arch as a rite of
initiation, 193; the ancient Roman rite of passing conquered enemies under a yoke was
probably in origin a ceremony of purification, 193-195; similarly the passage of a
victorious Roman army under a triumphal arch may have been intended to purify the
men from the stain of bloodshed and protect them from the pursuit of the ghosts of the
slain, 195.
§ 3. The External Soul in Animals, pp 196-218.— Supposed sympathetic relation between a
man and an animal such that the fate of the one depends on that of the other, 196;
external souls of Yakut and Samoyed shamans in animals, 196 sq.; witches and hares,
197; Malay conception of the external soul in an animal, 197; Melanesian conception
of an external soul (tamaniu) lodged in an animal or other object, 197-200; the
conception of an external soul lodged in an animal very prevalent in West Africa, 200;
the belief among tbe Fans, 202; among the natives of tbe Cross River, 202 sq.; among
the Balong of the Carneroons, 203; among the Ibos, 203 sq.; among the Calabar
negroes, 204-206; among the Ekoi of the Oban district in Southern Nigeria, 206-208;
among other Nigerian peoples, 209 sq.; few or no traces of such a belief in South
Africa, 210-212; the conception of the external soul (nagual) lodged in an animal
among the Indians of Central America, 212-214; in some tribes of South-Eastern
52
Australia the lives of the two sexes are thought to be bound up with the lives of two
different kinds of animals, as bats and owls, which may be calIed sex totems, 214-218.
§ 4. A Suggested Theory of Totemism, pp 218-225.— Sex totems and clan totems may alike be
based on the notion that men and women keep their external souls in their totems,
whether these are animals, plants, or what not, 219 sq.; the savage may imagine his
life to be bound up with that of more animals than one, at the same time; for many
savages think that every person has more souls than one, 220-222; the Battas of
Sumatra, who have totemism, believe that every person has a soul which is always
outside of his body, 222-224; if a totem is the receptacle in which a man keeps his
soul, it is no wonder that savages should conceal the secret from strangers, 224 sq.
§ 5. The Ritual of Death and Resurrection, pp 225-278.— This view of totemism may help to
explain the ritual of death and resurrection at savage rites of initiation, 225 sq.; the rite
of death and resurrection among the Wonghi of New South Wales, 227; use of the
bull-roarer at initiation in Australia, 227 sq.; the sound of the bull-roarer compared to
thunder, 228 sq.; belief of the Dieri that the sound of the bulI-roarer produces a supply
of edible snakes and lizards, 230 sq.; the bull-roarer sounded by the Indians of New
Mexico and Arizona to procure rain, 231; bull-roarer sounded in Torres Straits Islands
to produce wind and good crops, 232; original significance of the bulI-roarer perhaps
that of a magical instrument for causing thunder, wind, and rain, 233; in Australia the
sound of the bull-roarer at initiation is thought by women and children to be the voice
of a spirit who carries away the novices or kills and resuscitates them, 233-235; drama
of death and resurrection exhibited to novices at initiation in some tribes of New
South Wales, 235-237; in some Australian tribes a medicine-man at his initiation is
thought to be killed and raised again from the dead, 237-239; at some rites of initiation
in German New Guinea the novices are supposed to be swallowed and disgorged by a
monster, whose voice is heard in the hum of bulI-roarers, 239-242; drama of death and
resurrection exhibited to novices at initiation in Fiji, 243-246; novices supposed to be
swallowed by the devil at initiation in the island of Rook, 246; novices thought to be
killed and born again at initiation into the Duk-duk society of New Britain, 246 sq.;
pretence of begetting the novices anew at initiation in Halmahera, 248; pretence of
killing the novices and bringing them to life at initiation into the Kakian association in
Ceram, 249-251; pretence of death and resurrection at initiation into the ndembo
society on the Lower Congo, 251-255; Bastian’s account of the ritual of death and
resurrection in West Africa, 256; acquisition of a patron animal or guardian spirit in a
dream, 256 sq.; Dapper’s account of the ritual of death and resurrection at initiation
into the Belli-Paaro society of West Africa, 257-259; Miss Kingsley on rites of
initiation into secret societies in West Africa, 259; purra or poro society of Sierra
Leone, novices supposed to be born again, 259-261; semo society of Senegambia,
novices supposed to be killed and resuscitated, 261 sq.; ritual of the new birth among
the Akikuyu of British East Africa, 262 sq.; pretence of killing lads at initiation among
the Bondeis of German East Africa, 263 sq.; ordeals at initiation among the Bushongo
of the Congo, 264-266; rites of initiation among the Indians of Virginia, pretence of
the novices that they have forgotten their former life, 266 sq.; ritual of death and
resurrection at initiation into the secret societies of North America, 267 sqq.; the
medicine.bag the instrument of death and resurrection; 268 sq.; ritual of death and
resurrection at initiation among the Dacotas, 269; ritual of death and resurrection at
initiation into the Wolf society among the Nootka Indians, 270 sq.; novice brought
back by an artificial totemic animal among the Niska Indians, 271 sq.; in these rites
there seems to be a pretence of killing the novice as a man and restoring him to life as
53
an animal, 272 sq.; honorific totems among the Carrier Indians, 273-275; simulated
transformation of a novice into a bear, 274; pretence of death and resurrection at
initiation into the honorific totem of “the darding knife,” 274 sq.; supposed
invulnerability of Thompson Indians who have a knife, an arrow, or other weapon for
their personal totem or guardian spirit, 275 sq.; traces of the rite of death and
resurrection at initiation among more advanced peoples, 276 sq.; the motive for
depositing the soul in a safe place outside of the body at puberty may have been a fear
of the dangers supposed to attend the union of the sexes, 277 sq.
54
NOTE III.—African Balders . . . . . . XI, 315-320
55
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
OF THE GOLDEN BOUGH.
FOR some time I have been preparing a general work on primitive superstition
and religion. Among the problems which had attracted my attention was the
hitherto unexplained rule of the Arician priesthood; and last spring it happened
that in the course of my reading I cam across some facts which, combined with
others I had noted before, suggested an explanation of the rule in question. As
the explanation, if correct, promised to throw light on some obscure features of
primitive religion, I resolved to develop it fully, and, detatching it from my
general work, to issue it as a separate study. This book is the result.
Now that the theory, which necessarily presented itself to me at first in
outline, has been worked out in detail, I cannot but feel that in some places I
may have pushed it too far. If this should prove to be the case, I will readily
acknowledge and retract my error as soon as it is brought home to me.
Meantime my essay may serve its purpose as a first attempt to solve a difficult
problem, and to bring a variety of scattered facts into some sort of order and
system.
A justification is perhaps needed of the length at which I have dwelt upon
the popular festivals of European peasants in spring, at midsummer, and at
harvest. It can hardly be too often repeated, since it is not yet generally
recognised, that in spite of their fragmentary character the popular superstitions
and customs of the peasantry are by far the fullest and most trustworthy
evidence we possess as to the primitive religion of the Aryans. Indeed the
primitve Aryan, in all that regards his mental fibre and texture, is not extinct.
He is amongst us to this day. The great intellectual and moral forces which
have revolutionised the educated world have scarcely affected the peasant. In
his inmost beliefs he is what his forefathers were in the days when forest trees
still grew and squirrels played on the ground where Rome and London now
stand.
Hence every enquiry into the primitive religion of the Aryans should either
start from the superstitious beliefs and observances of the peasantry, or should
at least be constantly checked and controlled by reference to them. Compared
with the evidence afforded by living tradition, the testimony of ancient books on
the subject of early religion is worth very little. For literature accelerates the
advance of thought at a rate which leaves the slow progress of opinion by word
of mouth at an immeasurable distance behind. Two or three generations of
literature may do more to change thought than two or three thousand years of
traditional life. But the mass of the people who do not read books remain
unaffected by the mental revolution wrought by literature; and so it has come
about that in Europe at the present day the superstitious beliefs and practices
56
which have been handed down by word of mouth are generally of a far more
archaic type than the religion depicted in the most ancient literature of the
Aryan race.
It is on these grounds that, in discussing the meaning and origin of an ancient
Italian priesthood, I have devoted so much attention to the popular customs and
superstitions of modern Europe. In this part of my subject I have made great
use of the works of the late W. Mannhardt, without which, indeed, my book
could scarcely have been written. Fully recognising the truth of the principles
which I have imperfectly stated, Mannhardt set himself systematically to
collect, compare, and explain the living superstitions of the peasantry. Of this
wide field the special department which he marked out for himself was the
religion of the woodman and the farmer, in other words, the superstitious beliefs
and rites connected with trees and cultivated plants. By oral enquiry, and by
printed questions scattered broadcast over Europe, as well as by ransacking the
literature of folk-lore, he collected a mass of evidence, part of which he
published in a series of admirable works. But his health, always feeble, broke
down before he could complete the comprehensive and really vast scheme
which he had planned, and at his too early death much of his precious materials
remained unpublished. His manuscripts are now deposited in the University
Library at Berlin, and in the interest of the study to which he devoted his life it
is greatly to be desired that they should be examined, and that such portions of
them as he has not utilised in his books should be given to the world.
Of his published works the most important are, first, two tracts, Roggenwolf
und Roggenhund, Danzig, 1865 (second edition, Danzig, 1866), and Die
Korndämonen, Berlin, 1868. These little works were put forward by him
tentatively, in the hope of exciting interest in his enquiries and thereby securing
the help of others in pursuing them. But, except from a few learned societies,
they met with very little attention. Undeterred by the cold reception accorded to
his efforts he worked steadily on, and in 1875 published his chief work, Der
Baumkultus der Germanen und ihrer Nachbarstämme. This was followed in
1877 by Antike Wald- und Feldkutle. His Mythologische Forschungen, a
posthumous work, appeared in 1884.
Much as I owe to Mannhardt, I owe still more to my friend Professor W.
Robertson Smith. My interest in the early history of society was first excited by
the works of Dr. E. B. Tylor, which opened up a mental vista undreamed of
before me. But it is a long step from a lively interest in a subject to a systematic
study of it; and that I took this step is due to the influence of my friend W.
Roberston Smith. The debt which I owe to the vast stores of his knowledge, the
abundance and fertility of his ideas, and his unwearied kindness, can scarcely be
overestimated. Those who know his writings may form some, though a very
inadequate, conception of the extent to which I have been influenced by him.
The views of sacrifice set forth in his article “Sacrifice” in the Encyclopedia
Britannica, and further developed in his recent work, The Religion of the
57
Semites, mark a new departure in the historical study of religion, and ample
traces of them will be found in this book. Indeed the central idea of my essay—
the conception of the slain god—is derived directly, I believe, from my friend.
But it is due to him to add that he is in no way responsible for the general
explanation which I have offered of the custom of slaying the god. He has read
the greater part of the proofs in circumstances which enhanced the kindness,
and has made many valuable suggestions which I have usually adopted; but
except where he is cited by name, or where the views expressed coincide with
those of his published works, he is not to be regarded as necessarily assenting to
any of the theories propounded in this book.
The works of Professor G. A. Wilken of Leyden have been of great service
in directing me to the best original authorities on the Dutch East Indies, a very
important field to the ethnologist. To the courtesy of the Rev. Walter Gregor,
M.A., of Pitsligo, I am indebted for some interesting communications which
will be found acknowledged in their proper places. Mr. Francis Darwin has
kindly allowed be to consult him on some botanical quesitons. The manuscript
authorities to which I occasionally refer are answers to a list of ethnological
questions which I am circulating. Most of them will, I hope, be published in the
Journal of the Anthropological Institute.
The drawing of the Golden Bough which adorns the cover is from the pencil
of my friend Professor J. H. Middleton. The constant interest and sympathy
which he has shewn in the progress of the book have been a great help and
encouragement to me in writing it.
The Index has been compiled by Mr. A. Rogers, of the University Library,
Cambridge.
J. G. FRAZER.
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE,
8th March, 1890.
58
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION
OF THE GOLDEN BOUGH.
THE kind reception afforded by critics and the public to the first edition of The
Golden Bough has encouraged me to spare no pains to render the new one more
worthy of their approbation. While th eoriginal book remains almost entire, it
has been greatly expanded by the insertion of much fresh illustrative matter,
drawn chiefly from further reading, but in part also from previous collections
which I had made, and still hope to use, for another work. Friends and
correspondents, some of them personally unknown to me, have kindly aided me
in various ways, especially be indicating facts or sources which I had
overlooked and by correcting mistakes into which I had fallen. I thank them all
for their help, ofwhich I have often availed myself. Their contributions will be
found acknowledged in their proper places. But I owe a special
acknowledgement to my friends the Rev. Lomrimer Fison and the Rev. John
Roscoe, who have sent me valuble notes on the Fijian and Waganda customs
respectively. Most of Mr. Fison’s notes, I believe, are incorportated in my
book. Of Mr. Roscoe’s only a small selection has been given; the whole series,
embracing a general account of the customs and beliefs of the Waganda, will be
published, I hope, in the Journal of the Anthropological Institute. Further, I
ought to add that Miss Mary E. B. Howitt has kindly allowed me to make some
extracts from a work by her on Australian folklore and legends which I was
privileged to read in manuscript.
I see no reason to withdraw the explanation of the priesthood of Aricia
which forms the central theme of my book. On the contrary, the probability of
that explanation appears to me to be greatly strengthened by some important
evidence which has come to light since my theory was put forward. Readers of
the first edition may remember that I explained the priest as Aricia—the King of
the Wood—as an embodiment of a tree-spirit, and inferred from a variety of
considerations that at an earlier period one of these priests had probably been
slain every year in his character of an incarnate deity. But for an undoubted
parallel to such a custom of killing a human god annually I had to go as far as
ancient Mexico. Now from the Martyrdom of St. Dasius, unearthed and
published a few years ago by Professor Franz Cumont of Ghent (Analecta
Bollandiana, xvi. 1897), it is practically certain that in ancient Italy a human
representative of Saturn—the old god of the seed—was put to death every year
at the festival of the Saturnalia, and that though in Rome itself the custom had
probably fallen into disuse before the classical era, it still lingered on in remote
places down at least to the fourth century after Christ. I cannot but regard this
discovery as a confirmation, as welcome as it was unlooked for, of the theory of
the Arician priesthood which I had been led independently to propound.
59
Further, the general interpretation which, following W. Mannhardt, I had
given of the ceremonies observed by our European peasanry in spring, at
midsummer, and at harvest, has also been corroborated by fresh and striking
analogies. If we are right, these ceremonies were originally magical rites
designed to cause plants to grow, cattle to thrive, rain to fall, and the sun to
shine. Now the remarkable researches of Professor Baldwin Spencer and Mr. F.
J. Gillen among the native tribes of Central Australia have proved that these
savages regularly perform magical ceremonies for the express purpose of
bringing down rain and multiplying the plants and animals on which they
subsist, and further that these ceremonies are most commonly observed at the
approach of the rainy season, which in Central Australia answers to our spring.
Here then, at the other side of the world, we find an exact counterpart of those
spring and midsummer rites which our rude forefathers in Europe probably
performed with a full consciousness of their meaing, and which many of their
descendants still keep up, though the original intention of the rites has been to a
great extent, but by no means altogether, forgotten. The harvest customs of our
European peasantry have naturally no close analogy among the practices of the
Australian aborigines, since these savages do not till the ground. But what we
should look for in vain among the Australians we find to hand among the
Malays. For recent enquiries, notably those of Mr. J. L. van der Toorn in
Sumatra and of Mr. W. W. Skeat in the Malay Peninsula, have supplied us with
close parallels to the harvest customs of Europe, as these latter were interpreted
by the genius of Mannhardt. Occupying a lower plane of culture than ourselves,
the Malay have retained a keen sense of the significance of rites which in
Europe have sunk to the level of more or less meaningless survivals.
Thus on the whole I cannot but think that the course of subsequent
investigation has tended to confirm the general principles followed and the
particular conclusions reached in this book. At the same time I am as sensible
as ever of the hypothetical nature of much that is advanced in it. It has been my
wish and intention to draw as sharply as possible the line of demarcation
between my facts and the hypotheses by which I have attempted to colligate
them. Hypotheses are necessary but often temporary bridges built to connect
isolated facts. If my light bridges should sooner or later breaked down or be
superseded by more solid structures, I hope that my book may still have its
utility and its interst as a repertory of facts.
But while my views, tentative and provisional as they probably are, thus
remain much what they were, there is one subject on which they have
undergone a certain amount of change, unless indeed it might be more exact to
say that I seem to see clearly now what before was hazy. When I first wrote this
book I failed, perhaps inexcusably, to define even to myself my notion of
religion, and hence was disposed to class magic loosely under it as one of its
lower forms. I have now sort to remedy this defect by framing as clear a
definition of religion as the difficult nature of the subject and my apprehension
60
of it allowed. Hence I have come to agree with Sir A. C. Lyall and Mr. F. B.
Jevons in recognising a fundamental distinction and even opposition of
principle between magic and religion. More than that, I believe that in the
evolution of thought, magic, as representing a lower intellectual stratum, has
probably everywhere preceded religion. I do not claim any originality for the
latter view. It has been already plainly suggested, if not definitely formulated,
by Professor H. Oldenberg in his able book Die Religion des Veda, and for
aught I know it may have been explicitly stated by many others before and since
him. I have not collected the opinions of the learned on the subject, but have
striven to form my own directly from the facts. And the facts which bespeak
the priority of magic over religion are many and weighty. Some of them the
reader will find stated in the following pages; but the full force of the evidence
can only be appreciated by those who have made a long and patient study of
primitive superstition. I venture to think that those who submit to this drudgery
will come more and more to the opinion I have indicated. That all my readers
should agree either with my definition of religion, or with the inferences I have
drawn from it is not to be expected. But I would ask those who dissent from my
conclusions to make sure that they mean the same thing by religion that I do; for
otherwise the difference between us may be more apparent than real.
As the scope and purpose of my book have bene seriously misconceived by
some courteous critics, I desire to repeat in more explicit language, what I
vainly thought I had made quite clear in my original preface, that this is not a
general treatise on primitive superstitions, but merely the investigation of one
particular and narrowly limited problem, to wit, the rule of the Arician
priesthood, and that accordingly only such general principles are explained and
illustrated in the course of it as seemed to me to throw light on that special
problem. If I have said little or nothing of other principles of equal or even
greater importance, it is assuredly not because I undervalue them in comparison
with those which I have expounded at some length, but simply because it
appeared to me that they did not directly bear on the question I had set myself to
answer. No one can well be more sensible than I am of the immense variety
and complexity of the forces which have gone towards the building up of
religion; no one can recognise more frankly the futility and inherent absurdity of
any attempt to explain the whole vast organism as the product of any one simple
factor. If I have hitherto touched, as I am quite aware, only the fringe of a great
subject—fingered only a few of the countless threads that compose the mighty
web—it is merely because neither my time nor my knowledge has hitherto
allowed me to do more. Should I live to complete the works for which I have
collected and am collecting materials, I dare to think that they will clear me of
treating the early history of religion from a single narrow point of view. But the
future is necessarily uncertain, and at the best many years must elapse before I
can execute in full the plan which I have traced out for myself. Meanwhile I am
unwilling by keeping silence to leave some of my readers under the impression
61
that my outlook on so large a subject does not reach beyond the bounds of the
present enquiry. This is my reason for noticing the misconceptions to which I
have referred.2 I take leave to add that some part of my larger plan would
probably have been completed before now, were it not that out of the ten years
which have passed since this book was first published nearly eight have been
spent by me in work of a different kind.
There is a misunderstanding of another sort which I feel constrained to set
right. But I do so with great reluctance, because it compels me to express a
measure of dissent from the revered friend and master to whom I am under the
deepest obligations, and who has passed beyond the reach of controversy. In an
elaborate and learned essay on sacrifice (L’Année Sociologique, Deuxième
Année, 1897-1898), Messr. H. Humbert and M. Mauss have represented my
theory of the slain god as intended to supplement and complete Robertson
Smith’s theory of the derivation of animal sacrifice in general from a totem
sacrament. On this I have to say that the two theories are quite independent of
each other. I never assented to my friend’s theory, and so far as I can remember
he never gave a hint that he assented to mine. My reason for suspending my
judgement in regard to his theory was a simple one. At the time when the
theory was propounded, and for many years afterwards, I knew of no single
indubitable case of a totem sacrament, that is, of a custom of killing and eating
the totem animal as a solemn rite. It is true that in my Totemism, and again in
the present work, I noted a few cases (four in all) of solemnly killing a sacred
animal, which, following Robertson Smith, I regarded as probably a totem. But
none even of those four cases included the eating of the sacred animal by the
worshippers, which was an essential part of my friend’s theory, and in regard to
all of them it was not positively known that the slain animal was a totem.
Hence as time went on and still no certain case of a tomem sacrament was
2
Compare the following remarks in the preface to the 1922 abridgement: “…in committing
the book in its new form to the judgment of the public I desire to guard against a
misapprehension of its scope which appears to be still rife, though I have sought to correct it
before now. If in the present work I have dwelt at some length on the worship of trees, it is
not, I trust, because I exaggerate its importance in the history of religion, still less because I
would deduce from it a whole system of mythology; it is simply because I could not ignore
the subject in attempting to explain the significance of a priest who bore the title of King of
the Wood, and one of whose titles to office was the plucking of a bough—the Golden
Bough—from a tree in the sacred grove. But I am so far from regarding the reverence for
trees as of supreme importance for the evolution of religion that I consider it to have been
altogether subordinate to other factors, and in particular to the fear of the human dead, which,
on the whole, I believe to have been probably the most powerful force in the making of
primitive religion. I hope that after this explicit disclaimer I shall no longer be taxed with
embracing a system of mythology which I look upon not merely as false but as preposterous
and absurd. But I am too familiar with the hydra of error to expect that by lopping off one of
the monster’s heads I can prevent another, or even the same, from sprouting again. I can only
trust to the candour and intelligence of my readers to rectify this serious misconception of my
views by a comparison with my own express declaration.” — T.S.
62
reported, I became more and more doubtful of the existence of such a practice at
all, and my doubts had almost hardened into incredulity when the long-looked-
for rite was discovered by Messrs. Spencer and Gillen in full force among the
aborigines of Central Australia, whom I for one must consider to be the most
primitive totem tribes as yet known to us. This discovery I welcomed as a very
striking proof of the sagacity of my briliant friend, whose rapid genius had
outstripped our slower methods and anticipated what it was reserved for
subsequent research positively to ascertain. Thus from being little more than an
ingeneous hypothesis the totem sacrament has become, at least in my opinion, a
well-authenticated fact. But from the practice of the rite by a single set of tribes
it is still a long step to the universal practice of it by all totem tribes, and from
that again it is a still longer stride to the deduction therefrom of animal sacrifice
in general. These two steps I am not yet prepared to take. No one will welcome
further evidence of the wide prevalence of a totem sacrament more warmly than
I shall, but until it is forthcoming I shall continue to agree with Professor E. B.
Tylor that it is unsafe to make the custom the base of far-reaching speculations.
To conclude this subject, I will add that the doctrine of the universality of
totemism, which Messrs. Hubert and Mauss have implicitly attributed to me, is
one which I have never enunciated or assumed, and that, so far as my
knowledge and opinion go, the worship of trees and cereals, which occupies so
large a space in these volumes, is neither identical with totemism nor derived
from a system of totemism. It is possible that further enquiry may lead me to
regard as probably the universality of totemism and the derivation from it of
sacrifice and of the whole worship both of plants and animals. I hold myself
ready to follow the evidence wherever it may lead; but in the present state of
our knowledge I consider that to accept these conclusions would be, not to
follow the evidence, but very seriously to outrun it. In thinking so I am happy
to be at one with Messrs. Hubert and Mauss.
When I am on this theme I may as well say that I am by no means prepared
to stand by everything in my little apprentice work, Totemism. That book was a
rough piece of pioneering in a field that, till then, had been but little
explored,and some inferences in it were almost certainly too hasty. In particular
there was a tendency, perhaps not unnatural in the circumstances, to treat as
totems, or as connected with totemism, things which probably were neither the
one nor the other. If I ever republished the volumes, as I hope one day to do, I
shall have to retrench it in some directions as well as to enlarge it in others.
Such as it is, with all its limitations, which I have tried to indicate clearly,
and with all its defects, which I leave to the critics to discover, I offer my book
in its new form as a contribution to that still youthful science which seeks to
trace the growth of human thought and institutions in those dark ages which lie
beyond the range of history. The progress of that science must needs be slow
and painful, for the evidence, though clear and abundant on some sides, is
lamentably obscure and scanty on others, so that the cautious enquirer is every
63
now and then brought up sharp on the edge of some yawning chasm across
which he may be quite unable to find a way. All he can do in such a case is to
mark the pitfull plainly on his chart and hope that others in time may be able to
fill it up or bridge it over. Yet the very difficulty and novelty of the
investigations, coupled with the extent of the intellectual prospect which
suddenly opens up before us whenever the mist rises and unfolds the far
horizon, constitute no small part of its charm. The position of the
anthropologist of to-day resembles in some sort the position of classical
scholars at the revivial of learning. To these men the rediscovery of ancient
literature came like a revalation, disclosing to their wondering eyes a splendid
vision of the antique world, such as the cloistered student of the Middle Ages
never dreamed of under the gloomy shadow of the minster and within the sound
of its solemn bells. To us moderns a still wider vista is vouchsafed, a greater
panorama is unrolled by the study which aims at bringing home to us the faith
and the practice, the hopes and the ideals, not of two highly gifted races only,
but of all mankind, and thus at enabling us to follow the long march, the slow
and toilsome ascent, of humanity from savagery to civilisation. And as the
scholar of the Renaissance found not merely fresh food for thought but a new
field of labour in the dusty and faded manuscripts of Greece and Rome, so in
the mass of materials that is steadily pouring in from many sides—from buried
cities of remotest antiquity as well as from the rudest savages of the desert and
jungle—we of to-day must recognise a new province of knowledge which will
task the energies of generations of students to master. The study is still in its
rudiments, and what we do now will have to be done over again and done
better, with fuller knowledge and deeper insight, by those who come after us.
To recur to a metaphor which I have already made us of, we of this age are only
pioneers hewing lanes and clearings in the forest where others will hereafter
sow and reap.
But the comparative study of the beliefs and institutions of manking is fitted
to be much more than a means of satisfying an enlightened curiosity and of
furnishing materials for the researches of the learned. Well handled, it may
become a powerful instrument to expedite progress if it lays bare certain weak
spots in the foundations on which modern society is built—if it shews that much
which we are wont to regard as solid rests on the sands of superstition rather
than on the rock of nature. It is indeed a melancholy and in some respects
thankless task to strike at the foundations of beliefs in which, as a strong tower,
the hopes and aspirations of humanity through long ages have sought a refuge
from the storm and stress of life. Yet sooner or later it is inevitable that the
battery of the comparative method should breach these venerable walls, mantled
over with the ivy and mosses and wild flowers of a thousand tender and sacred
associations. At present we are only dragging the guns into position: they have
hardly yet begun to speak. The task of building up into fairer and more
enduring forms the old structures so rudely shattered is reserved for other hands,
64
perhaps for other and happier ages. We cannot foresee, we can hardly even
guess, the new forms into which thought and society will run in the future. Yet
this uncertainty ought not to induce us, from any consideration of expediency or
regard for antiquity, to spare the ancient moulds, however beautiful, when these
are proved to be out-worn. Whatever comes of it, wherever it leads us, we must
follow truth alone. It is our only guiding star: hoc signo vinces.
To a passage in my book it has been objected by a distinguished scholar that
the church-bells of rome cannot be heard, even in the stillest weather, on the
shores of the Lake of Nemi. In acknowledging my blunder and leaving it
uncorrected, may I plead in extenuation of my obduraacy the example of an
illustrious writer? In Old Mortality we read how a hunted Covenanter, fleeing
before Claverhouse’s dragoons, hears the sullen boom of the pursuing cavalry
borne to him on the night wind. When Scott was taken to task for this
description, because the drums are not beaten by cavalry at night, he replied to
the effect that he liked to hear the drums sounding there, and that he would let
them sound on so long as his book might last. In the same spirit I make bold to
say that by the Lake of Nemi I love to hear, if it be only in imagination, the
distant chiming of the bells of Rome, and I would fain believe that their airy
music may ring in the early of my readers after it has ceased to vibrate in my
own.
J. G. FRAZER.
CAMBRIDGE,
18th Septber, 1900.
65
[GENERAL PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION]
WHEN I originally conceived the idea of the work, of which the first part is now
laid before the public in a third and enlarged edition, my intention merely was
to explain the strange rule of succession of the the priesthood or sacred kingship
of Nemi and with it the legend of the Golden Bough, immortalised by Virgil,
which the voice of antiquity associated with the priesthood. The explanation
was suggested to me by some similar rules formerly imposed on kings in
Southern India, and at first I thought that it might be adequately set forth within
the compass of a small volume. But I soon found that in attempting to settle
one question I had raised many more: wider and wide prospects opened out
before me; and thus step by step I was lured on into far-spreading fields of
primitive thought which had been but little explored by my predecessors. Thus
the book grew on my hands, and soon the projected essay became in fact a
ponderous treatise, or rather a series of separate disserations loosely linked
together by a slender threat of connexion with my original subject. With each
successive edition these dissertations have grown in number and swollen in bulk
by the accretion of fresh materials, till the thread on which they are strung at last
threatened to snap under their weight. Accordingly, following the hint of a
friendly critic, I decided to resolve my overgrown book into its elements, and to
publish separately the various disquisitions of which it is composed. The
present volumes, forming the first part of the whole, contain a preliminary
enquiry into the principles of Maigc and the evolution of the Sacred Kingship in
general. They will be followed shortly by a volume which discusses the
principles of Taboo in their special application to sacred or priestly kings. The
remainder of the work will be mainly devoted to the myth and ritual of the
Dying God, and as the subject is large and fruitful, my discussion of this will,
for the sake of convenience, be divided into several parts, of which one, dealing
with some dying gods of antiquity in Egypt and Western Asia, has already been
published under the title of Adonis, Attis, Osiris.
But while I have thus sought to dispose my book in its proper form as a
collection of essays on a variety of distinct, though related, topics, I have at the
same time preserved the unity, as far as possible, by retaining the original title
for the whole series of volumes, and by pointing out from time to time the
bearing of my general conclusions on the particular problem which furnished
the starting-point of the enquiry. It seemed to me that this mode of presenting
the subject offered some advantages which outweighed certain obvious
drawbacks. By discarding the austere form, without, I hope, sacrificing the
solid substance, of a scientific treatise, I thought to cast my materials into a
more artistic mould and so perhaps to attract readers, who might have been
repelled by a more strictly logical and systematic arrangement of the facts.
66
Thus I put the mysterious priest of Nemi, so to say, in the forefront of the
picture, grouping the other sombre figures of the same sort behind him in the
background, not certainly because I deemed themof less moment, but because
the picturesque natural surroundings of the priest of Nemi among the wooded
hills of Italy, the very mystery which enshrouds him, and not least the haunting
magic of Virgil’s verse, all combine to shed a glamour on the tragic figure with
the Golden Bough, which fits him to stand as the centre of a gloomy canvas.
But I trust that the high relief into which he has thus been thrown in my pages
will not lead my readers to overrate his historical importance by comparison
with that of some other figures which stand behind him in the shadow, or to
attribute to my theory of the part he played a greater degree of probability than
it deserves. Even if it should appear that this ancient Italian priest must after all
be struck out from the long roll of men who have masqueraded as gods, the
single omission would not sensibly invalidate the demonstration, which I
believe I have given, that human pretenders to divinity have been far common
and their credulous worshippers far more numerous than had been hitherto
suspected. Similarly, should be whole theory of this particular priesthood
collapse—and I fully acknowledge the slenderness of the foundations on which
it rests—its fall would hardly shake my general conclusions as to the evolution
of primitve religion and society, which are founded on large collections of
entirely independent and well-authenticated facts.
Friends versed in German philosophy have pointed out to me that my views
of magic and religion and their relations to each other in history agree to some
extent with those of Hegel. The agreement is quite independent and to me
unexpected, for I have never studied the philosopher’s writings nor attended to
his speculations. As, however, we have arrived at similar results by very
different roads, the partial coincidence of our conclusions may perhaps be taken
to furnish a certain presumption in favour of their truth. To enable my readers
to jduge of the extent of the coincidence, I have given in an appendix some
extracts from Hegel’s lectures on the philosophy of religion. The curious may
compare them with my chapter on Magic and Religion, which was written in
ignorance of the views of my illustrious predecessor.
With regard to the history of the sacred kingship which I have outlined in
these volumes, I desire to repeat a warning which I have given in the text.
While I have shewn reason to think that in many communities sacred kings have
been developed out of magicians, I am far from supposing that this has been
universally true. The causes which have determined the establishment of
monarchy have no doubt varied greatly in different countries and at different
times: I make no pretence to discuss or even enumerate them all: I have merely
selected one particular cause because it bore directly on my special enquiry; and
I have laid emphasis on it because it seems to have been overlooked by writers
on the origin of political institutions, who, themselves sober and rational
according to modern standards, have not reckoned with the enormous influence
67
which superstition has exerted in shaping the human past. But I have no wish to
exaggerate the importance of this particular cause at the expense of others
which may have been equally or even more influential. No one can be more
sensible than I am of the risk of stretching an hypothesis too far, of crowding a
multitude of incongruous particulars under one narrow formula, of renouncing
the vast, nay inconceivable complexity of nature and history to a delusive
appearance of theoretical simplicity. It may well be that I have erred in this
direction again and again; but at least I have been well aware of the danger of
error and have striven to guard myself and my readers against it. How far I
have succeeded in that and the other objects I have set before me in writing this
work, I must leave to the candour of the public to determine.
J. G. FRAZER.
CAMBRIDGE,
5th December, 1910.
68
[PREFACE TO PART II]
THE term Taboo is one of the very few words which the English language has
borrowed from the speech of savages. In the Polynesian tongue, from which we
have adopted it, the word denotes a remarkable system which has deeply
influenced the religious, social, and political life of the Oceanic islanders, both
Polynesians and Melanesians, particularly by inculating a superstitious
veneration for the persons of nobles and the rights of private property. When
about the year 1886 my ever-lamented friend William Robertson Smith asked by
to write an article on Taboo for the Ninth Edition of the Encyclopædia
Britannia, I shared what I believe to have been at the time the current view of
anthropologists, that the institution in question was confined to the brown and
black races of the Pacific. But an attentive study of the accounts given of Taboo
by observers who wrote while it still flourished in Polynesia soon led me to
question that view. The analogies which the system presents to the
superstitions, not only of savages everywhere, but of the civilised races of
antiquity, were too numerous and too striking to be overlooked; and I came to
the conclusion that Taboo is only one of a number of similar systems of
superstition which among many, perhaps among all races of men have
contributed in large measure, under many different names and with many
variations of detail, to build up the complex fabric of society in all the various
sides or elements of it which we describe as religious, social, political, moral
and economic. This conclusion I briefly indicated in my article. My general
views on the subject were accepted by my friend Robertson Smith and applied
by him in his celebrated Lectures to the elucidation of some aspects of Semitic
religion. Since then the importance of Taboo and of systems like it in the
evolution of religion and morality, of government and property, has been
generally recognised and has indeed become a commonplace of anthropology.
The present volume is merely an expansion of the corresponding chapter in
the first edition of The Golden Bough. It treats of the principles of taboo in their
special application to sacred personages, such as kings and priests, who are the
proper theme of the book. It does not profess to handle the subject as a whole,
to pursue it into all its ramifications, to trace the manifold influences which
systems of this sort have exerted in moulding the multitudinous forms of human
society. A treatise which should adequately discuss these topics would far
exceed the limits which I have prescribed for myself in The Golden Bough. For
example, I have barely touched in passing on the part which these superstitions
have played in shaping the moral ideas and directing the moral practices of
mankind, a profound subject fraught perhaps with momentous issues for the
time when men shall seriously set themselves to revise their ethical code in the
light of its origin. For that the ethical like the legal code of a people stands in
69
need of constant revision will hardly be disputed by any attentive and
dispassionate observer. The old view that the principles of right and wrong are
immutable and eternal is no longer tenable. The moral world is as little exempt
as the physical world from the law of ceaseless change, of perpetual flux.
Contemplate the diversities, the inconsistencies, the contradictions of the ethical
ideas and the ethical practice, not merely of different peoples in different
countries, but of the same people in the same country in different ages, then say
whether the foundations of morality are eternally fixed and unchanging. If they
seem so to us, as they have probably seemed to men in all ages who did not
extend their views beyond the narrow limits of their time and country, it is in all
likelihood merely because the rate of change is commonly so slow that it is
imperceptible at any moment and can only be detected by a comparison of
accurate observations extending over long periods of time. Such a comparison,
could be make it, would probably convince us that if we speak of the moral law
as immutable and eternal, it can only be in the relative or figurative sense in
which we apply the same words to the outlines of the great mountains, by
comparison with the short-lived generations of men. The mountains, too, are
passing away, though we do not see it; nothing is stable and abiding under the
sun. We can as little arrest the process of moral evolution as we can stay the
sweep of the tides or the courses of the stars.
Therefore, whether we like it or not, the moral code by which we regulate
our conduct is being constantly revised and altered: old rules are being silently
expunged and new rules silently inscribed in the palimpset by the busy, the
unresting hand of an invisible scribe. For unlike the public and formal revision
of a legal code, the revision of the moral code is always private, tacit, and
informal. The legislators who make and the judges who administer it are not
clad in ermine and scarlet, their edicts are not proclaimed with the blare of
trumpets and the pomp of heraldry. We ourselves are the lawgivers and the
judges: it is the whole people who make and alter the ethical standard and judge
every case by reference to it. We sit in the highest court of appeal, judging
offenders daily, and we cannot if we would rid ourselves of the responsibility.
All that we can do is to take as clear and comprehensive a view as possible of
the evidence, lest from too narrow and partial a view we should do injustice,
perhaps gross and irreparable injustice, to the prisoners at the bar. Few things,
perhaps, can better guard us from narrowness and illiberality in our moral
judgements than a survey of the amazing diversities of ethical theory and
practice which have been recoreded among the various races of mankind in
different ages; and accordingly the Comparative Method applied to the study of
moral phenomena may be expected to do for morality what the same method
applied to religious phenomena is now doing for religion, by enlarging our
mental horizon, extending the boundaries of knowledge, throwing light on the
origin of current beliefs and practices, and thereby directly assisting us to
replace what is effect by what is vigorous, and what is false by what is true.
70
The facts which I have put together in this volume as well as in some of my
other writings may perhaps serve as materials for a future science of
Comparative Ethics. They are rough stones which await the master-builder,
rude sketches which more cunning hands than mine may hereafter work up into
a finished picture.
J. G. FRAZER.
CAMBRIDGE,
1st February, 1911.
71
[PREFACE TO PART III]
WITH this third part of The Golden Bough we take up the question, Why had the
King of the Wood at Nemi regularly to perish by the hand of his successor? In
the first part of the work I gave some reasons for thinking that the priest of
Diana, who bore the title of King of the Wood beside the still lake among the
Alban Hills, personated the great god Jupiter or his duplicate Dianus, the deity
of the oak, the thunder, and the sky. On this theory, accordingly, we are at once
confronted with the wider and deeper quesiton, Why put a man-god or human
representative of deity to a violent death? Why extinguish the divine light in its
earthly vessel instead of husbanding it to its natural close? My general answer
to that question is contained in the present volume. If I am right, the motive for
slaying a man-god is a fear lest with the enfeeblement of his body in sickness or
old age his sacred spirit should suffer a corresponding decay, which might
imperil the general course of nature and with it the existence of his worshippers,
who believe the cosmic energies to by mysteriously knit up with those of their
human divinity. Hence, if there is any measure of truth in this theory, the
practice of putting divine men and particularly divine kings to death, which
seems to have been common at a particular stage in the evolution of society and
religion, was a crude but pathetic attempt to disengage an immortal spirit from
its mortal envelope, to arrest the forces of decomposition in its nature be
retrenching with ruthless hand the first ominous symptoms of decay. We may
smile if we please at the vanity of these and the like efforts to stay the inevitable
decline, to bring the relentless revolution of the great wheel to a stand, to keep
youth’s fleeting roses for ever fresh and fair; but perhaps in spite of every
disillusionment, when we contemplate the seemingly endless vistas of
knowledge which have been opened up even within our own generation, many
of us cherish in our hearts a fancy, if not a hope, that some loophole of escape
may after all be discovered from the iron walls of the prison-house which
threatens to close on and crush us; that, groping about in the darkness, mankind
may yet chance to lay hands on “that golden key that opes the palace of
eternity,” and so to pass from this world of shadows and sorrow to a world of
untroubles light and joy. If this is a dream, it is surely a happy and innocent
one, and to those who would wake us from it we may murmer with Michael
Angelo,
“Però non mi destar, deh! parla basso.”
J. G. FRAZER.
CAMBRIDGE,
11th June, 1911.
72
[PREFACES TO PART IV]
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION
THESE studies are an expansion of the corresponding sections in my book The
Golden Bough, and they will form part of the third edition of that work, on the
preparation of which I have been engaged for some time. By far the greater
proportion of them is new, and they make by themselves a fairly complete and, I
hope, intelligible whole. I shall be glad if criticism passed on the essays in their
present shape should enable me to correct and improve them when I come to
incorporate them in my larger work.
In studying afresh there three Oriental worships, akin to each other in
character, I have paid more attention than formerly to the natural features of the
countries in which they arose, because I am more than ever persuaded that
religion, like all other institutions, has been profoundly influenced by physical
environment, and cannot be understood without some appreciation of those
aspects of external nature which stamp themselves indelibly on the thoughts, the
habits, the whole life of a people. It is a matter of great regret that I have never
visited the East, and so cannot describe from personal knowledge the native
lands of Adonis, Attis, and Osiris. But I have sought to rememdy the defect by
comparing the descriptions of eye-witnesses, and painting from them what may
be called composite pictures of some of the scenes on which I have been led to
touch in the course of this volume. I shall not have wholly failed if I have
caught from my authorities, and conveyed to my readers some notion, however
dim, of the scenery, the atmosphere, the gorgeous colouring of the East.
J. G. FRAZER.
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE,
22nd July, 1906.
73
W. M. Flinders Petries, Mr. G. F. Hill of the British Museum, the Reverend J.
Roscoe of the Church Missionary Society, and Mr W. Wyse. Above all, I owe
much to my teacher the Reverend Professor R. H. Kennet, who, besides
initiatiing me into the charms of the Hebrew language and giving me a clearer
insight into the course of Hebrew history, has contributed several valuable
suggestions to the book and enhanced the kindness by reading and criticizing
some of the proofs.
J. G. FRAZER.
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE,
22nd September, 1907.
J. G. FRAZER.
CAMBRIDGE,
16th Janurary, 1914.
74
[PREFACE TO PART V]
IN the last part of this work we examined the figure of the Dying and Reviving
God as it appears in the Oriental religions of classical antiquity. With the
present instalment of The Golden Bough we pursue the same theme in other
religions and among other races. Passing from the East to Europe we begin
with the religion of ancient Greece, which embodies the now familiar
conception in two typical examples, the vine-god Dionysus and the corn-
goddess Persephone, with her mother and duplicate Demeter. Both of these
Greek divnities are personifications of cultivated plants, and a consideration of
them naturally leads us on to investigate similar personifications elsewhere.
Now of all the plants which men have artificially reared for the sake of food the
cereals are on the whole the most important; therefore it is natural that the
religion of primitive agricultural communities should be deeply coloured by the
principal occupation of their lives, the care of the corn. Hence the frequency
with which the figures of the Corn-mother and Corn-maiden, answering to the
Demeter and Persephone of ancient Greece, meet us in other parts of the world,
and not least of all on the harvest-fields of modern Europe. But edible roots as
well as cereals have been cultivated by many races, especially in the tropical
regions, as a subsidiary or even as a principal means of subsistence; and
accordingly they too enter largely into the religious ideas of the peoples who
live by them. Yet in the case of the roots, such as yams, taro, and potatoes, the
conception of the Dying and Reviving God appears to figure less prominently
than in the case of the cereals, perhaps for the simple reason that while the
growth and decay of the one sort of fruit go on above ground for all to see, the
similar processes of the other are hidden under ground and therefore strike the
popular imagination less forcibly.
Having surveyed the variations of our main them among the agricultural
races of mankind, we prosecute the enquiry among savages who remain more or
less completely in the hunting, fishing, and pastoral stages of society. The same
motive which leads the primitive husbandman to adore the corn or the roots,
induces the primitive hunter, fowler, fisher, or herdsman to adore the beasts,
birds, or fishes which furnish him with the means of subsistence. To him the
conception of the death of these worshipful beings is naturally presented with
singular force and distinctness; since it is no figurative or allegorical death, no
poetical embroidery thrown over the skeleton, but the real death, the naked
skeleton, that constantly thrusts its attention on his imagination. And strange as
it may seem to us civilised men, the notion of the immortality and even of the
resurrection of the lower animals appears to be almost as familiar to the savage
and to be accepted by him with nearly as unwavering a faith as the obvious fact
of their death and destruction. For the most part he assumes as a matter of
75
course that the souls of dead animals survive their decease; hence much of the
thought of the savage hunter is devoted to the problem of how he can best
appease the naturally incensed ghosts of his victims so as to prevent them from
doing him a mischief. This refusal of the savage to recognise in death a final
cessation of the vital process, this unquestioning faith in the unbroken
continuity of all life, is a fact that has not yet received the attention which it
seems to merit from enquirers into the constitution of the human mind as well as
into the history of religion. In the following pages I have collected examples of
this curious faith; I must leave it to other others to appraise them.
Thus on the whole we are concerned in these volumes with the reverence or
worship paid by men to the natural resources from which they draw their
nutriment, both vegetable and animal. That they should invest these resources
with an atmosphere of wonder and awe, often indeed with a halo of divinity, is
no matter for surprise. The circle of human knowledge, illuminated by the pale
cold light of reason, is so infintesimally small, the dark regions of human
ignorance which lie beyond that luminous ring are so immeasurably vast, that
imagination is fain to step up to the border line and send the warm, richly
coloured beams of her fairy lantern streaming out into the darkness; and so,
peering into the gloom, she is apt to mistake the shadowy reflections of her own
figure for real beings moving in the abyss. In short, few men are sensible of the
sharp line that divides the known from the unknown; to most men it is a hazy
borderland where perception and conception melt indissolubly into one. Hence
to the savage the ghosts of dead animals and men, with which his imagination
peoples the void, are hardly less real than the solid shapes which the living
animals and men present to his senses; and his thoughts and activities are nearly
as much absorbed by the one as by the other. Of him it may be said with
perhaps even greater truth than that of his civilised brother, “What shadows we
are, and what shadows we pursue!”
But having said so much in this book of the misty glory which the human
imagination sheds round the hard material realities of the food supply, I am
unwilling to leave my readers under the impression, natural but erroneous, that
man has created most of his gods out of his belly. That is not so, at least that is
not my reading of the history of religion. Among the visible, tangible,
perceptible elements by which he is surrounded—and it is only of these that I
presume to speak—there are others than the merely nutritious which have
exerted a powerful influence in touching his imagination and stimulating his
energies, and so have contributed to build up the complex fabric of religion. To
the preservation of the species, the reproductive faculties are no less essential
than the nutritive; and with them we enter on a very different sphere of thought
and feeling, to wit, the relation of the sexes to each other, with all the depths of
tenderness and all the intricate problems which that mysterious relation
involves. The study of the various forms, some gross and palpable, some subtle
and elusive, in which the sexual instinct has moulded the religious consciousness
76
of our race, is one of the most interesting, as it is one of the most difficult and
delicate tasks, which await the future historian of religion.3
But the influence which the sexes exert on each other, intimate and profound
as it has been and must always be, is far indeed from exhausting the forces of
attraction by which mankind are bound together in society. The need of mutual
protection, the economic advantages of co-operation, the contagion of exmaple,
the communication of knowledge, the great ideas that radiate from great minds,
like shafts of light from high towers,—these and many other things combine to
draw men into communities, to drill them into regiments, and to set them
marching on the road of progress with a concentrated force to which the loose
skirmishers of mere anarchy and individualism can never hope to oppose a
permanenet resistence. Hence when we consider how intimately humanity
depends on society for many of the boons which it prizes most highly, we shall
probably admit that of all the forces open to our observation which have shaped
human destiny the influence of man on man is by far the greatest. If that is so, it
seems to follow that among the beings, real or imaginary, which the religious
imagination has clothed with the attributes of divinity, human spirits are likely
to play a more important part than the spirits of plants, animals, or inanimate
objects. I believe that a careful examination of the evidence, which has still to
be undertaken, will confirm this conclusion; and that if we could strictly
interrogate the phantoms which the human mind has conjured up out of the
depths of its bottomless ignorance and enshrined as deities in the dim light of
temple, we should find that the majority of them have been nothing but the
ghosts of dead men. However, to say this is necessarily to anticipate the result
of future research; and if in saying it I have ventured to make a prediction,
which like all predictions is liable to be falsified by the event, I have done so
only from a fear lest, without some such warning, the numerous facts recorded
in these volumes might lend themselves to an exaggerated estimate of their own
importance and hence to a misinterpretation and distortion of history.
J. G. FRAZER.
CAMBRIDGE, 4th May, 1912.
3
Presumably Frazer regarded the many studies of this aspect of the history of religion which
had been published prior to this point (Discourse on the Worship of Priapus, On the Worship
of the Generative Powers, Ancient Faiths Embodied in Ancient Names, Rivers of Life,
Phallicism Celestial and Terrestrial, The God Idea of the Ancients, etc. etc. etc.) as so far
beneath his notice as to not even be worth criticising since they were not written by specialist
academics. — T.S.
77
[PREFACE TO PART VI]
WITH The Scapegoat our general discussion of the theory and practice of the
Dying God is brought to a conclusion. The aspect of the subject with which we
are here chiefly concerned is the use of the Dying God as a scapegoat to free his
worshippers from the troubles of all sort with which life on earth is beset. I
have sought to trace this curious usage to its origin, to decompose the idea of
the Divine Scapegoat into the elements out of which it appears to be
compounded. If I am right, the idea resolves itself into a simple confusion
between the material and the immaterial, between the real possibility of
transferring a physical load to other shoulders and the supposed possibility of
transferring our bodily and mental ailments to another who will bear them for
us. When we survey the history of this pathetic fallcy from its crude inception
in savagery to its full development in the speculative theology of civilised
nations, we cannot but wonder at the singular power which the human mind
possesses of transmuting the leaden dross of superstition into a glittering
semblance of gold. Certainly in nothing is this alchemy of thought more
conspicuous than in the process which has refined the base and foolish custom
of the scapegoat into the sublime conception of a God who dies to take away the
sins of the world.
Along with the discussion of the Scapegoat I have included in this volume an
account of the remarkable religious ritual of the Aztecs, in which the theory of
the Dying God found its most systematic and most tragic expression. There is
nothing, so far as I am aware, to shew that the men and women, who in Mexico
died cruel deaths in the character of gods and goddesses, were regarded as
scapegoats by their worshippers and executioners; the intention of slaying them
seems rather to have been to reinforce by a river of human blood the tide of life
which might also grow stagnant and stale in the veins of the deities. Hence the
Aztec ritual, which prescribed the slaughter, the roasting alive, and the flaying
of men and women in order that the gods might remain for ever young and
strong, conforms to the general theory of deicide which I have offered in this
work. On that theory death is a portal through which gods and men alike must
pass to escape the decrepitude of age and to attain the vigour of eternal youth.
The conception may be said to culminate in the Brahmanical doctrine that in the
daily sacrifice the body of the Creator is broken anew for the salvation of the
world.
J. G. FRAZER.
CAMBRIDGE,
21st June, 1913.
78
[PREFACE TO PART VII]
IN this concluding part of The Golden Bough I have discussed the problem
which gives its title to the whole work. If I am right, the Golden Bough over
which the King of the Wood, Diana’s priest at Aricia, kept watch and ward was
none other than a branch of mistletoe growing on an oak within the sacred
grove; and as the plucking of the bough was a necessary prelude to the slaughter
of the priest, I have been led to institute a parallel between the King of the
Wood at Nemi and the Norse god Balder, who was worshipped in a sacred
grove beside the beautiful Sogne fiord of Norway and was said to have perished
by a stroke of mistletoe, which alone of all things on earth or in heaven could
wound him. On the theory here suggested both Balder and the King of the
Wood personified in a sense the sacred oak of our Aryan forefathers, and both
had deposited their lives or souls for safety in the parasite which sometimes,
though rarely, is found growing on an oak and by the very rarity of its
appearance excites the wonder and stimulates the devotion of ignorant men.
Though I am now less than ever disposed to lay weight on the analogy between
the Italian priest and the Norse god, I have allowed it to stand because it
furnishes me with a pretext for discussing not only the general question of the
external soul in popular superstition, but also the fire-festivals of Europe, since
fire played a part both in the myth of Balder and in the ritual of the Arician
grove. Thus Balder the Beautiful in my hands is little more than a stalking-
horse to carry two heavy pack-loads of facts. And what is true of Balder applies
equally to the priest of Nemi himself, the nominal hero of the long tragedy of
human folly and suffering which has unrolled itself before the readers of these
volumes, and on which the curtain is now about to fall. He, too, for all the
quaint garb he wears, and the gravity with which he stalks across the stage, is
merely a puppet, and it is time to unmask him before laying him up in the box.
To drop metaphor, while nominally investigating a particular problem of
ancient mythology, I have really been discussin questions of more general
interest which concern the gradual evolution of human thought from savagery to
civilization. The enquiry is beset with difficulties of many kinds, for the record
of man’s mental development is even more imperfect than the record of his
phyiscal development, and it is harder to read, not only by reason of the
incomparably more subtle and complex nature of the subject, but because the
reader’s eyes are dimmed by think mists of passion and prejudice, which cloud
in a far less degree the fields of comparative anatomy and geology. My
contribution to the history of the human mind consists in little more than a
rough and purely provisional classification of facts gathered almost entirely
from printed sources. If there is one general conclusion which seems to emerge
from the mass of particulars, I venture to think that it is the essential similarity
79
in the working of the less developed human mind among all races, which
corresponds to the essential similarity in their bodily frame revealed by
comparative anatomy. But while this general mental similarity may, I believe,
be taken as established, we must always be on our guard against tracing to it a
multitude of particular resemblances which may be and often are due to simple
diffusion, since nothing is more certain than that the various races of men have
borrowed from each other many of their arts and crafts, their ideas, customs,
and institutions. To sift out the elements of culture which a race has
independently evolved and to distinguish them accurately from those which it
has derived from other races is a task of extreme difficulty and delicacy, which
promises to occupy students of man for a long time to come; indeed so complex
are the facts and so imperfect in most cases is the historical record that it may be
doubted whether in regard to many of the lower races we shall ever arrive at
more than probable conjectures.
Since the last edition of The Golden Bough was published some thirteen
years ago, I have seen reason to change my views on several matters discussed
in this concluding part of the work, and though I have called attention to these
changes in the text, it may be well for the sake of clearness to recapitulate them
here.
In the first place, the arguments of Dr. Edward Westermarck have satisfied
me that the solar theory of the European fire-festivals, which I accepted from
W. Mannhardt, is very slightly, if at all, supported by the evidence, and is
probably erroneous. The true explanation of the festivals I now believe to be
the one advocated by Dr. Westermarck himself, namely that they are purificatory
in intention, the fire being designed not, as I formerly held, to reinforce the
sun’s light and heat by sympathetic magic, but merely to burn or repel the
noxious things, whether conceived as material or spiritual, which threaten the
life of man, of animals, and of plants. This aspect of the fire-festivals had not
wholly escaped me in former editions; I pointed it out explicitly, but, biassed
perhaps by the great authority of Mannhardt, I treated it as secondary instead of
primary and dominant. Out of deference to Mannhardt, for whose work I
entertain the highest respect, and because the evidence for the purificatory
theory of the fires is perhaps not quite conclusive, I have in this edition repeated
and even reinforced the arguments for the solar theory of the festivals, so that
the reader may see for himself what can be said on both sides of the quesiton
and may draw his own conclusion; but for my part I cannot but think that the
arguments for the purificatory theory far outweigh the arguments for the solar
theory. Dr. Westermarck based his criticisms largely on his own observation of
the Mohammedan fire-festivals of Morocco, which present a remarkable
resemblance to those of Christian Europe, though there seems no reason to
asusme that herein Africa has borrowed from Europe or Europe from Africa.
So far as Europe is concerned, the evidence tends strongly to shew that the
grand evil which the festival aimed at combating was witchcraft, and that they
80
were conceived to attain their end by actually burning the witches, whether
visible or invisible, in the flames. If that was so, the wide prevalance and the
immense popularity of the fire-festivals provides us with a measure for
estimating the extent of the hold which the belief in witchcraft had on the
European mind before the rise of Christianity or rather of rationalism; for
Christianity, both Catholic and Protestant, accepted the old belief and enforced
it in the old way by the faggot and the stake. It was not until human reason at
last awoke after the long slumber of the Middle Ages that this dreadful
obsession gradually passed away like a dark cloud from the intellectual horizon
of Europe.
Yet we should deceive ourselves if we imagine that the belief in witchcraft is
even now dead in the mass of the people; on the contrary there is ample evidence
to shew that it only hibernates under the chilling influence of rationalism, and
that it would start into active life if that influence were ever seriously relaxed.
The truth seems to be that to this day the peasant remains a pagan and savage at
heart; his civilization is merely a thin veneer which the hard knocks of life soon
abrade, exposing the solid core of paganism and savagery below. The danger
created by a bottomless layer of ignorance and superstition under the crust of
civilized society is lessened, not only be the natural torpidity and inertia of the
bucolic mind, but also by the progressive decrease of the rural as compared with
the urban population in modern states; for I believe it will be found that the
artisans who congregate in towns are far less retentive of primitive modes of
thought than their rustic brethren. In every age cities have been the centres and
as it were the lighthouses from which ideas radiate into the surrounding darkness,
kindled by the friction of mind with mind in the crowded haunts of men; and it
is natural that at these beacons of intellectual light all should partake in some
measure of general illumination. No doubt the mental ferment and unrest of
great cities have their dark as well as their bright side; but among the evils to be
apprehended from them the chances of a pagan revival need hardly be reckoned.
Another point on which I have changed my mind is the nature of the great
Aryan god whom the Romans called Jupiter and the Greeks Zeus. Whereas I
formely argued that he was primarily a personification of the oak and only in
the second place a personification of the thundering sky, I now invert the order
of his divine functions and believe that he was a sky-god before he came to be
associated with the oak. In fact, I revert to the traditional view of Jupiter, recant
my heresy, and am gathered like a lost sheep into the fold of mythological
orthodoxy. The good shepherd who has brought me back is my friend Mr. W.
Warde Folwer. He have removed the stone over which I stumbled in the
wilderness by explaining in a simple and natural way how a god of the
thundering sky might easily come to be afterwards associated with the oak. The
explanation turns on the great frequency with which, as statistics prove, the oak
is struck by lightning beyond any other tree of the wood in Europe. To our rude
forefathers, who dwelt in the gloomy depths of the primæval forest, it might
81
well seem that the riven and blackened oaks must indeed be favourites of the
sky-god, who so often descended on them from the murky cloud in a flash of
lightning and a crash of thunder.
This change of view as to the great Aryan god necessarily affects my
interpretation of the King of the Wood, the priest of Diana at Aricia, if I may
take that discarded puppet out of the box again for a moment. On my theory the
priest represented Jupiter in the flesh, and accordingly, if Jupiter was primarily a
sky-god, his priest cannot have been a mere incarnation of the sacred oak, but
must, like the deity whose commision he bore, have been invested in the
imagination of his worshippers with the power of overcasting the heaven with
clouds and eliciting storms of thunder and rain from the celestial vault. The
attribution of weather-making powers to kindgs and priests is very common in
primitive society, and is indeed one of the principal levers by which such
personages raise themselves to a position of superiority above their fellows.
There is therefore no improbabilitiy in the supposition that as a representative of
Jupiter the priest of Diana enjoyed this reputation, though positive evidence of it
appears to be lacking.
Lastly, in the present edition I have shewn some grounds for thinking that
the Golden Bough itself, or in common parlance the mistletoe on the oak, was
supposed to have dropped from the sky upon the tree in a flash of lightning and
therefore to contain within itself the seed of celestial fire, a sort of smouldering
thunderbolt. This view of the priest and of the bough which he guarded at the
peril of his life has the advantage of accounting for the importance which the
sanctuary at Nemi acquired and the treasure which it amassed through the
offerings of the faithful; for the shrine would seem to have been to ancient what
Loreto has been to modern Italty, a place of pilgrimage, where princes and
nobles as well as commoners poured wealth into the coffers of Diana in her
green recess among the Alban hills, just as in modern times kings and queens
vied with each other in enriching the black Virgin who from her Holy House on
the hillside at Loreto looks out on the blue Adriatic and the purple Apennines.
Such pious prodigality becomes more intelligible if the greatest of the gods was
indeed believed to dwell in humans shape with his wife among the woods of
Nemi.
These are the principal points on which I have altered my opinion since the
last edition of my book was published. The mere admission of such changes
may suffice to indicate the doubt and uncertainty which attend enquiries of this
nature. The whole fabric of ancient mythology is so foreign to our modern
ways of thought, and the evidence concerning it is for the most part so
fragmentary, obscure, and conflicting that in our attempts to piece together and
interpret it we can hardly hope to reach conclusions that will completely satisfy
either ourselves or others. In this as in other branches of study it is the fate of
theories to be washed away like children’s castles of sand by the rising tide of
knowledge, and I am not so presumptuous as to expect or desire for mine an
82
exemption from the common lot. I hold them all very lightly and have used
them chiefly as convenient pegs on which to hang my collections of facts. For I
believe that, while theories are transitory, a record of facts has a permanent
value, and that as a chronicle of ancient customs and beliefs my book may
retain its utility when my theories are as obsolute as the customs and beliefs
themselves deserve to be.
I cannot dismiss without some natural regret a task which has occupied and
amused me at intervals for many years. But the regret is tempered by
thankfulness and hope. I am thankful that I have been able to conclude at least
one chapter of the work I projected a long time ago. I am hopeful that I may not
now be taking a final leave of my indulgent readers, but that, as I am sensible of
little abatement in my bodily strength and of none in my ardour for study, they
will bear with me yet a while if I should attempt to entertain them with fresh
subjects of laughter and tears drawn from the comedy and the tragedy of man’s
endless quest after happiness and truth.
J. G. FRAZER.
CAMBRIDGE, 13th October, 1913.
83